Motivation for fatcats.

15k in the bag. A steady neddy run on another beautiful and unnatrually warm october morning.
You know what else is unnatural? Running on Sunday morning, having been in bed from midnight the night before, and after a breakfast of banana, a yoghurt, grapes and a cup of tea.
Unfreakingnatural.
I swear to his noodly greatness, as soon as this marathon is over I'm dusting off my highest heels and slithering into my slinkiest dress, having my hair done, and then I'm going out to drink rum until I hallucinate and dance until my feet refuse to take another step. I am going to revert back to spending Sundays gobbling painkillers and shaking over the papers, perhaps indulging in alcoholic cures.
Country Gay is quite right, this is cardigan behaviour.
Un-natural.