Saturday

Booze free from the night before at The Oval and I awoke BUZZING for the Brockwell Park Run on Saturday morning.

I cycled off to the Beauty of Brockwell with time to spare. Usually I arrive at the bicycle racks by the lido just as the race is about to start.

I had time for a gentle stretch, some Lido Icicle catch ups, and then the rendez vous with Madam Pacemaker.

"I had half a bottle of red last night"

...she sheepishly declared.

I felt like sending her off on a pre-race circuit of the park for punishment.

We jostled our way to the front at the start, started off Strava and then legged it.

At least I did.

Madam Pacemaker was caught up in the pack.

I slowed down slightly. We were reunited at the foot of Cressingham Hill.

The rest of the race (oh, it's not a race) felt ACE.

I even managed to stick with Madam Pacemaker all the way up BMX Hill.

We had a fist pump moment to celebrate the achievement. I think that we both felt slightly silly.

And the final timing?

3 seconds off a bloody PB.

THREE seconds.

Arse.

And then it was time for the race comedown with a purification in the waters of Lake Brockwell.

Boy - it was BUSY for 9:30am on a Saturday morning.

The rubber boys and girls are still doing their thing. The lazy lido sunbathers are also out in force as well.

Hey hoe - the lido is there to be used.

I found myself trapped behind a Bubble Boy. The ferocity in which he kicked his legs for the crawl created a blind spot for me.

I waited half a length at one point to put some distance between us, only then to be trapped by a Bubble Girl for the remainder of the swim.

I just don't get it.

My crawl technique is all about the top torso. The legs remain pretty stationary.

Still, there's no such thing as a bad swim.

I left Lake Brockwell GRINNING.

A few domestics back in Sunny Stockwell, and then it was time to head back over there.

Oh dear.

It wasn't that bad.

Anna and I watched the t20 on Sky through the looking glass of some local pale ales.

And then we ventured out Quayside and straight into the post-Regatta booze fest crash site.

Chin chin.

Back at base and the BOOZE followed with the folly of the European Cup Final.

ALWAYS the EUROPEAN CUP FINAL.

Two stars on the bade etc.


Last built: Sun, Jan 31, 2016 at 3:08 AM

By Jason A.Cobb, Saturday, June 6, 2015 at 2:15 PM. Shut up and eat your vegetables.