I once bonked on a tough long-run. It was Summer, hot, and I thought I'd not need any fuel for my run (I thought I was hard hahahaha). About 12 miles into the run, up a steep hill which goes on forever (it was through the Wye Valley) I felt like I was running through treacle.
I ended up eating what I could find on a sparse roadside blackberry bush, then another mile down the road I ended up in civilisation and there was a plum tree overhanging a garden wall. I must've eaten about 20 of those plums; they were the sweetest, most loveliest fruit I've ever stolen. I was a bit worried about the effect they'd have on my bowels with another 5 miles to go to get home, but I couldn't stop myself from eating them. I was okay though.
Yes. We're more scared about it than her. But I'm also very excited for her too. It's a mix of feelings I guess.
Jonnie; sorry for reading something there that wasn't there.
Jugula; well done on the 20 years and commiserations on the marathon. Do you think it was simply a fuelling issue? If so, a few well timed gels may sort that. It seems such a shame to have ended up like that at 23 miles.