#8!
I was doing it in the lobby of the Dolan Aqua Centre. When I organised it, I asked them what day would be busiest to do something like this; they said, "Saturday, definitely a Saturday."
Unfortunately, what they MEANT was a Saturday during the school term, when the kid's swimming lessons are on. The place was utterly dead. This seems to be a recurring theme of my fundraising efforts: fundraising is pointless if there's nobody about. (Begs the question of why I'm doing -this-, heh.)
I was surprised at how quickly the first 20km went in. Luckily, Lee was there for most of it, so at least I had someone to chat to, although his insistence on espousing his neo-fascist views might have scared a few folk off from donating. (I PROMISE I AM NOT FUNDING TERRORISM. THAT WOULD BE LEE.) I cycled as slowly as I could, reasoning that the longer I was about, the more money I'd get.
When I got off the bike I seemed okay, though walking downstairs was a little tricky.
Last night I woke up in total agony.
Now, I've been going to the gym... well, not for a -long- time or anything. But long enough to get used to a bit of muscular discomfort after a workout, or after doing something I've never done before. This was... not like that. My legs were sore when I straightened them, they were sore when I bent them; they were sore when I elevated them and they were sore when I stood up. I was woken up from a really awesome dream, too, in which I was being inducted in the ways of a secret cult that had just saved me from a creepy old man and a dragon on an airship that had just torn away half the sky. My garden was flooded and I had to go through some weird baptism thing while chanting weird words - to my disappointment, none of which were 'cthulhu f'taghn.' Ah well.
I was pretty terrified that I'd actually damaged my legs, actually. But it's dying down a bit now, SO.
I am still disappointed about not reaching the conclusion of my dream tho.