Just like that, my running days was over...

Here lies the remains of Timler's running shoes. Let us not mourn their death but instead thank Nike for their existence and the good that they brought. Let us also be thankful that Tim is now free to pursue his life and eat what he wants.

So this may be a bit premature, but my running days are firmly on hiatus. It's been 45 days since I ran the Manchester Marathon and, I have to confess, I've not been for a run since. Where has my motivation gone? Whereas two months ago 6am alarms were routine, now, I won't dream of leaving my pit until work means I really can't put it off any longer.

In truth, I feel a little like I'm letting myself down. I spent 16 weeks getting myself in as good a shape as possible and showed so much will power to keep on training when I was tired, when I was injured and when the weather was freezing. And then the other half of me says I deserve to slob - after all, haven't I earned it?

The problem is, I no longer have an end goal. Without a target, running feels like a waste of time. What am I achieving by running? Before, it was to prove to myself that I could finish the marathon and to raise money. I no longer have that, so why put on my trainers?

My brother has kept on running and signed up for numerous 10k events across the summer but the appeal has gone for me. Getting around a 10k isn't a challenge. Running a PB would be, but the reward for the training seems incomparable to the marathon.

The weather might be good but running in the heat doesn't appeal to me. Once the summer is over, my runners might come out again. But for now, the best they'll get is a trip to the gym.