"...With New York barely 100 miles away, I continue running - winding my way through quiet roads, away from the main highway...  I run in a programmed way.  My feet seem to know the road and where to run - like a train on its tracks.  In the way that the track is master to the train, the road is my master.  I follow and obey every bend, curve, hill, dip, camber and surface..."

"...I am a slave to the rhythm of trainer on tarmac...

"...We stayed at a small campsite.  Dave and I were completely broke.  We had no money to buy food and were living on what was left in the fridge and freezer..."  

"...For most of the evening, we sat and looked out of the window.  Slowly and wearily we cleared the table from dinner.  We didn't talk much.  We had been through this routine so many times before.  We turned on the telly.  Because we were in the woods we could get no reception.  Dave looked at me glumly and said he was off to bed.  I just nodded in acknowledgement.  It was 7.15 p.m..."