I always diligently collect Sainsbury’s Active Kids vouchers and then hand them over to our local Primary School. Today I try but couldn't get anywhere near the place. The existing high security fences have now been joined by high security electronic gates controlled by keypad access. So I have to abort, I’ll try again tomorrow. In my day they used to do that sort of thing to keep the kids in, these days it’s to keep undesirables baring vouchers out.
I'm back on the bike today and I risk the freshly stone-chipped road through Borrowash. As long as you ride two foot away from the kerb, where’s there’s a scale model of something akin to the scree slope at the top of Snowdon’s Watkin Path, its ok. Some drivers don’t seem too happy with that but that’s their problem. I pay my ‘road tax’.
L points out a book called ‘Sex, Lies & Triathlon’. What a great title.
A couple of quotes
“Basically, a good hard workout is like the exact opposite of casual sex: You always dread it beforehand, but afterwards you’re always really glad you did it.”
“Competing in the Ironman is hardly the kind of windfall one normally associates with winning a lottery. It’s like getting a letter in the mail that says, in giant 24-point type, ‘CONGRATULATIONS! YOU MAY HAVE ALREADY WON 12 HOURS OF EXCRUCIATING MISERY AND PAIN!!’”
Sounds great, it’s on the Christmas list.
Talking of the ‘T’ word, swim training tonight. We again head up to Sheffield’s Olympic pool at Ponds Forge and I do the required 16 lengths e.g. one mile. L has to outdo me of course and does a full hour but then she does have double the distance to do next week.
(Tuesday 4th June)