Alberto Salazar and I went for a run this morning. He was in my ear saying all sorts of helpful things, like "Only 30 seconds to go!" and "Push hard to the finish".

If he had really been by my side, I would have clocked him in the jaw.

Running beside the FDR is a treat for the senses. Garbage strewn cross ruptured paving, dog poop on parade, cars thundering past. But best of all in summer is the heat that rolls off the road and across the path alongside. The path you happen to be on, sweating your ass off. Except you're not sweating your ass off because it's still huge... but I digress.

Alberto Salazar and I went for a run this morning. It was his "improve your endurance" run. 10 minutes easy, 3 minutes 80% capacity, 3 mins recovery, 3 mins 80%, 3 mins recovery, 3 mins 80%, 3 mins recovery, 3 mins 80%, then 10 minutes dying cool down.

The first two spurts were fine. The 3rd spurt, not so fine. I won't even bother calling the 4th a 'spurt' as it was more of a 'splutter' and my legs were too busy dialling in the life support to be of any help to me. It was so hot in that 4th splutter you could have cooked an egg on my forehead and bacon rashers on my check bones.

After all that complaining, I do feel a sense of...I was going to say 'accomplishment' but I'll settle for a sense of 'thank god that's over'. Thanks Alberto.