Until recently, the idea of running before breakfast used to fill me with horror, but I have been doing it on a few Sunday mornings over the last few months. It hasn't felt any different from running at my usual times (just before lunch or just before dinner), although I haven't done anything longer than 60 minutes before breakfast. I have little interest in its effect on my racing, given that racing is now something I occasionally fit in between injuries.

Last Sunday morning's pre-breakfast run, in mild, humid (almost claggy) conditions was one of my best runs for months (subjectively; I just felt good). In contrast, this morning's effort (on almost the same route) in bright, frosty weather left me feeling that it would have benefitted my fitness more to be sitting on a sofa reading a newspaper. I felt lacking in energy from the start. On the ascent of Buck Hill, which is usually my favourite part of this route, I had to stop and walk because the sun was blazing straight into my eyes at a low angle, but I actually felt relieved to have an excuse for a break from running. Then, three-quarters of the way up the long climb from the Woodbrook to Beacon Hill, I was brought to a halt by a sudden twinge in a hamstring. To add insult to injury as I gingerly plodded on a few seconds later, a bloke who might have been even older than me came running across at a path junction. I did manage to start running again after a minute or two, and felt somewhat better on the descent back home. Obviously I can't blame any of this misfortune on the lack of breakfast in my stomach; it was just one of those days.