First off, a big thankyou to the weather forecasters, who really are astonishingly accurate these days. I was in bed early last night and got up at about 8 this morning, to howling winds and driving rain.

Instant huff alert.

And yet, having looked at the weather forecast I was able to replan my day such that the supermarket shopping was first (I usually do it after the long run, would you believe?) and I even managed to eat something, before heading out at 12 ish. Planning again, you see. As long as I have a plan I am happy. I'm totally allergic to uncertainty.

Now then. The outward part of the run wasn't bad at all, although I was suffering the problem I mentioned a few weeks back, whereby there seemed to be a lot of tension in my left leg preventing my foot from flexing properly and making me all flatfooted. This resolved itself after the first 2 and a half miles or so. The wind, which was pretty strong, was coming straight off the sea and was neither a help nor a hindrance.

On this route (I like sticking to the same route, because until you get to where you turned round last time you know it's pretty pointless to look at your pacemaker to see how far you've gone - unless you want to check your pace, which I don't particularly) it's quite severely uphill from 5.5 miles onwards. It's that big slopy thing at the marina end of Marine Parade, then on towards Rottingdean. I hit half way in just over an hour and 3 minutes.

When I turned round to come back, however, 2 quite horrible things seemed to have happened. The hill I had just run up did not appear to go down when approached from the opposite direction. Impossible, I know, but there you are. And, more distressingly, the wind was no longer coming off the sea but had swung round to come almost directly from the West - a headwind of quite some strength and an utterly relentless bastard. I'm sorry, but it did not let up for even a fraction of a second and was in my face for 5.5 of the 6.5 return miles.

Not only is running into a headwind physically quite tiring, mentally it's utterly exhausting. Every step, which is usually (on a good day) just an instinctive move requiring very little thought, suddenly becomes an achievement. It requires concentration and determination to keep going. It saps your will and your strength like very little else.

I am therefore very proud that today's long run is the first I've completed without a single stop. No comfort breaks, no tantrums, no tears, no 'shall I phone home and ask him to come and get me' moments. Non stop. Yes, it took 2 hours 7 minutes and 35 seconds. For comparison purposes, I completed my last competitive half marathon (the Brighton Sussex Beacon event 2 years ago) in 1 hour and 51 minutes. So I have a long way to go yet, but I'm bloody getting there!

The absence of a photo today I must apologise for. I just couldn't find something that summed up the mental anguish I was feeling on the way back that would be tempered into something you might want to look at by the obvious enjoyment of all the people out walking the prom GOING THE OTHER WAY.

REALLY looking forward to a few short sessions now! Reports as appropriate. Time to roast something.