Motivation for fatcats.

15k.
I'd like to say they were a good kilometres but they were not. They were a guilt riddled painful 15k, with me muttering furiously at myself. I thought you weren't going to drink in the run up to the marathon you fucking stupid idiot, I might have said, oh, those two little bottles of Ballygowan water are gonna cure your dehydration for sure, idiot, ah, tired you ale swilling twit? Hum? How's the body doing now when faced with this hill? betcha bottle of beer 4 is singing to you right now huh? Idiot...
And so on it went.
Nonetheless, despite my best attempts to hamper, belittle and impede myself I have completed my run. I am now going to go upstairs, vomit, take a shower and read the papers for a while. I hope you are all having a much nicer Sunday.