A sober start to Saturday.

I'm not 'doing' bloody Dry January, but by mistake I appear to have not touched a drop since the first few days of the year.

Um, chin chin etc.

And so hangover free and feeling fresh, I set off on the Brockwell Park Run.

This is something else that I seemed to have also had a period of abstention with.

I have had a run of unfortunate male bodily injuries over the past couple of months.

Not enough to keep my out of the water or off the bike, but I certainly wasn't ready for running.

But that changed on Saturday morning.

The Brockwell Park Run has become huge.

HUGE.

It's growing by the week.

I've not seen the figures, but I reckon we're coming close to 500 runners each week.

I half-heartedly looked out for Madam Pacemaker at the start.

Charming, charming company, but my fitness levels are no way near to keeping up with Madam Pacemaker right now.

There was a bunch start, which seemed to take all the way to the Cressingham Hill to sort itself out.

I had no ambitions for time. I did my thing, and was rather pleased with my final time of 24'10".

I've still no idea where that sub 22 min PB came from last year.

And then the lovely lido.

Oh dear.

Time and tide has once again kept me away for the past fortnight.

But Saturday morning was all about the swim.

"If I don't do it then I have failed"

...I told Anna the night before.

"Twat"

...was the response.

Since my last swim the water has dipped from 10 degrees down to 4, and then back up again this morning to 5.

Five or below is when I start to get genuinely scared.

I slipped into the water, and thought mmm, this 'aint that bad.

The first length was swam pretty much on raw adrenaline.

I touched down at the shallow end, and my feet were the first to go.

I couldn't feel them.

Hey hoe.

Let's turn around and do it all over again.

The regular Icicles were talking of 5-6 lengths max.

I managed six, thought of a couple more, but then sense got the better of me.

Happy.

VERY HAPPY.

And I didn't fail, either.

Twat.

A quick cycle back to Sunny Stockwell for some flat chores, and then a cycle over to Liverpool Street, and then back to over there.

Oh dear, etc.

It was alright.

I had some Chronic crap to catch up on during the commute, plus I revisited Ziggy Stardust the Motion Picture on my iPod.

I haven't heard this in possibly three decades. I asked for the original double vinyl as a Christmas present when it first came out in 1984 (?)

I remember at the time that my Bowie entry point had been Let's Dance.

RCA cashed in on the rejuvenated Bowie cool and put out the Ziggy soundtrack.

I thought wtf is this at the time.

It didn't sound very much like Let's Dance.

It certainly livened up the train journey back to over there though.

The plan was for a quick turnaround with Anna and hit then hit BOOZE.

A pub crawl had been planned, ending up with a drunken audience viewing of some Shakespeare up at the University.

But we both felt a little puritanical and decided to give the booze a miss.

We cycled up in instead to watch Wivenhoe Town

It was a WEIRD fixture - a Cup tie in a competition where only teams in that particular league can enter.

Plus it was a Quarter Final, with Wivenhoe having only played one other match.

It was actually a very tight game against March Town.

0-0 at FT meant that the game went straight to penalties. Wivenhoe lost with the final pen being saved.

The West Ham Vs Man City match early evening back at base was nowhere near the same amount of fun.

I found out early evening that I had bought another F717 cam on eBay by mistake.

Whoops.

Having dropped my last model at a school a couple of weeks ago, I promoted by reserve model as the full time work horse.

I always like to have one in reserve.

£31 all in.

ACE.

We caught up with trashy TV for the rest of the evening: Being Kevin Pietersen, Beckham's For the Love of the Game, random youtube videos...


Last built: Mon, Feb 1, 2016 at 4:13 PM

By Jason A.Cobb, Saturday, January 23, 2016 at 5:05 PM. Shut up and eat your vegetables.