95 Miles. Cold. Dark. Wet.
There we were, in a line of 4 at 3am. Slowly marching through the mud. Wet, freezing & tired.Let’s rewind 6 weeks.Preparing for the West Highland Way race and ma boy George, or Dod, the ole mountain goat, gets injured.If you don’t know what it is, it’s a 95 mile race. On your own 2 […]Continue reading