Thursday morning marked the start of the 10th marathon and I was still hobbling along on my right leg managing a jog whenever I could.
The first part of the day was spent overlooking Loch Lomond yet again, a stunning view that seemed to go on for ever. I was sad to see the end of it when I eventually veered onto less scenic paths.
Some winding A-roads later I arrived in Renton, a place I wont remember fondly after having a glass bottle thrown at me, sometimes you have to wonder “what’s the Firkin Point”?
Trying to avoid the bottle and keep Bessie from tumbling into oncoming traffic I ended up twisting my knee, another injury to add to the list…
I hobbled to my finishing point, eyes set on the bucket of ice that has become my daily companion. Tomorrow I’ll be back to square one on the recovery process as I head to Glasgow.