I am back into the 'run (almost) everyday' routine now, and while plugged into my cheap and nasty Tesco mp3 player, decided i could go another mile. As I slogged gently uphill feeling the cramp build up in my tired legs, i was overtaken by a cyclist. Glancing back revealed a second cyclist on my shoulder (not literally) and as Leo Sayer (the re-released Thunder In My Heart track, honestly) raced through my ears i became a cross between an olympic athlete and braveheart - there was NO WAY he was going to beat me! i took on a new leash of life ... my second wind ... i was flying and i felt amazing. The hill got steeper, and i got faster ... the top was insight and i could sense the bike had dropped back ... oh yeah, oh yeah, oh ........ and then it happened. Lunch come swimming back up my throat in preparation for a truly spectacular multi-coloured yawn. I swallowed it down, the cyclist overtook ... i hadn't considered the fact he would nail me on the flat ... and then it was back again. i passed a sign: Welcome to Chunder Central .... I stopped, i put my arms over my head, and forced the f@cker back down my throat - a true case of mind over matter! 30 seconds later i was gently jogging my way back home. I have never run until I have vom'd - does this count? i am wracked by the feeling i was robbed by my natural instincts and should have let the barf loose in a monument to my uphill effort. Was i wrong to stop????