I’ve developed a worrying habit of stopping at pubs halfway through my long runs for a coke. I know it isn’t as though I’m stopping for a vodka and tonic (lots of ice and a slice of lemon, please) but the point is that I’m stopping.
The whole point of a long run is that it is a long ... run. Not two short runs with a coca-cola in between. The point is to get used to running for a couple of hours – or longer without stopping and to make sure my legs get used to keeping going. Otherwise I’ll have to stop halfway through Liverpool marathon, hop over the barriers, find a suitable drinking establishment, order coke, drink said beverage and re-join the marathon. I’m pretty sure that sort of thing is frowned upon.
Although my Twitter running buddy was fairly enthusiastic about it.
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