What am I doing here? What the hell was I thinking? I can’t stop thinking about the order of the alphabet and how it can only be a matter of time until someone genetically manufactures a unicorn and how it’s going to change the world when they do. I think I might have completely lost my mind.
I’m 22 miles into my first ever marathon, which I’ve decided to attempt without any sort of training along the banks of Loch Ness, and at this point it’s feeling an awful lot like the worst decision of all time – worse even than the time I decided to use a melon and some empty beer bottles to set up a bowling alley at a flat party. And that was a really bad decision. There was melon everywhere.
I could use some melon now. Or at least some water. Or a car to get in or get hit by. Maybe I’ve hit the wall – the soul-destroying wall that I’ve heard so much about. No. Not now. I’ve only got four miles to go. I must not hit the wall. I must skirt around the wall. I’ve got a mountain to climb but I’ve come so far now, and there was a reason for doing this at some point. I’m sure of it.
I refuse to be defeated by a blockade that exists only in my mind, and in the 20.5 million results that come up when you stick the words ‘hitting the wall when running’ into Google, of course.