The more I run, the more I need more of the above. Sleep is fine. I'm very adept at noticing when I need to rest - that's most of the time. The food bit I struggle with. I eat reasonably well, but I don't seem to get hungry. The first sign I should eat is when I start to feel ill, then I don't feel like eating, I feel like sleeping. So I'm trying to force myself to eat more, more regularly to ward off this vicious circle. Hence, I'm currently enjoying half a malt loaf for breakfast. I went for a lovely run around Regent's Park this morning. Marred only slightly by a small re-enactment of Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds': One minute I'm running around the lake, the next I'm covered in breadcrumbs and seagulls. The old lady who threw the bread was very apologetic. She said the wind caught her bag. Thankfully, apart from a bit of beaky poking, I survived unscathed and un-poo-ed on. I suspect those seagulls don't have to remind themselves to eat.
(Stats: 1hr 20 minutes; 8 miles; 10 minute/mile. Technically, I was a little faster than this, but I didn't pause my stopwatch while I fought off my avian attackers.)
(Pic: Halfway through my breakfast malt loaf. It's lovely and takes no effort, therefore satisfying all of my food criteria.)
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