Fuelling a Marathon: Stop Hitting the Wall and Start Crossing the Finish Line
Mile 20. The crowd is thinning. Your legs feel like they’ve been replaced with two damp sandbags. And somewhere deep in your gut, a civil war is breaking out between…
Mile 20. The crowd is thinning. Your legs feel like they’ve been replaced with two damp sandbags. And somewhere deep in your gut, a civil war is breaking out between…
It’s 5:47am. The alarm went off twelve minutes ago. It’s raining – obviously it’s raining, this is Britain. You’ve got a 10-miler planned along the towpath and one very pressing…
There’s a special kind of heartbreak that comes from paying £3 for a tiny sachet of beige sludge, squeezing it into your mouth at mile 14, and realising it tastes…