Final session in the torture chamber in the dungeons of the RCJ; a.k.a. the osteopathic treatment room. Howard attacks my tight IT band with his thumbs, and goes in deep to try and separate the two ‘heads’ of the calf muscle, working up to doing something similar with my hamstrings. It’s like half an hour of jovial agony. Howard jokes around and gives little laughs as I just scream into the pillow. What joy. I don’t really mind; everything feels better afterwards; tuned up, (almost) ready. I wish I could bring him to the Staten Island start line on Sunday – which according to the weather looks like it’s going to be bastard freezing cold. Estimates are currently varying between -1 and 6 degrees Celsius. I pack an old woolly hat in the case along with the other ‘junker’ clothing – old/second hand stuff that is worn to keep warm when waiting around for the start and discarded immediately before the race (it gets collected and turned over to charity). Final little bits of organising to do. There’s a million little things. Am looking forward to getting my life back…

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