Spent yesterday afternoon in a state of shock after reading a Guardian piece about this weekend’s London Triathlon. Starting to think that I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this little challenge…
Anyway, it gave me the push I needed to suggest another little four-mile run with a friend around the pretty village of Pangbourne – or at least made me feel like I deserved the bottle of wine that we demolished between us afterwards. (There’s a possibility that I’m not taking this seriously enough). Aforementioned friend is doing a sprint triathlon the same weekend as me, and I wonder whether I should have gone for the shorter distance that she has sensibly opted for?
Was in the office at 7am this morning, worked through lunch and left at 6pm – only just making it home for a Cardio Coach session at my gym. The triathlon expert was off sick, so spent half an hour with a chap called Matt, who said – more than once – that he thought I was mad and why didn’t I just try cricket? Is this a new motivation technique that I don’t know about? Nonetheless, he was a nice lad and we had a good old chat while I did a cycle-run brick session with sprint finishes. He told me about the best way of mixing a rum and coke, and I dictated the recipe for a perfect Pimms and lemonade. The poor lad has never tried one, so I encouraged him to give it a bash next time he comes off the cricket pitch.
