At the end of last week Mum was very happy that it was time to "taper."  When she got back from her last long run she plonked herself down and announced she was looking forward to a rest.  Mum was satisfied she'd done everything she could and now all she needed to do was let her legs recover in time for the marathon, and see what happened on the day. By Monday morning Mum was getting a bit twitchy.  She announced it was far too soon to be looking at weather forecasts or carb loading.  Then she went and got a huge slab of malt loaf and added the long range weather forecast for Manchester onto her broswer's toolbar.  I settled by her feet on my second favourite holey blanket and sighed.  When Mum jumped out her chair in panic a few seconds later she ran over my favourite Mr Foxy.  Wuff, Mum, careful! Mum sat down again saying all sorts of bad words around her massive mouthful of malt loaf.  She was so distracted I managed to snag the smallest ...