I really should know better than to shoot my mouth off about how easy it is to run five miles the night before......running five miles...... It is the perfect opportunity for the little imp of destiny (second cousin to the Easter Bunny) to say 'nya ha haaaaa, I'll show him' and give me cramp, trip me up, rain on me, or all of the above.
Must have been his day off though, as it went extraordinarily well. It is such a contrast from when I first did that run (commonly called hotel-work-hotel; don't know why I am telling you as you will never work it out it's such an ingenious, uncrackable code). I would be exhausted by the time I reached the office and turned for home/hotel (ooops, that's given the game away), making the return feel desperately long. Now the half way point comes as a surprise and......voice hushes to a whisper.....I am actually a bit sad when I get to the finish as I was actually enjoying (ah-say ah-say ah-say enjoying!) it so much!!
This really isn't me; and if in actual fact it IS me, then who am I and what have I done with the REAL Adrian Blaydon??! I fully expect a ransom note in the post shortly; don't think I'll pay it though, really not keen on having him back.
So it is time to peel off the figure hugging, second skin, wearing this to keep warm and fully aware that compression tops and bottoms are more Yucci that Gucci, gear (I may be fitter but I still look a bit of a plonkity plonka in the woolly hat; NO amount of the new me is going to make that outfit work) and jump......don't want to take any risks.....step gently into the shower.
That paragraph jumped about a bit; if you understand it could you explain it to me, the grammar checker has gone berserk on it.
Anyway, more of my Phil Schofields of life tomorrow!
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