June 2014

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

So there's no weekend jaunts for a while then... Who's going to carry my broken body over the finish line now?

Any volunteers? Anyone?

Do what we do Charlie and use thoughts of alcoholic refreshment to get you to the end.

Never fails!

[Sweder]

Long runs are done for a week or two. Apart from the twenty-five perecent reduction in number of fully-functioning limbs I have a weekend/ week working at Excel ahead - where my team will construct and dismantle a fully automated port handling system, complete with gantry crane and container docking station, in an exhibit hall - followed by the first week of July in Orlando. 4th of July at Disney? Not such a bad gig, though no CWD Ryder Cup as golf, and the violent, repetitive knee-twisting that entails, is off the menu.

On the plus side these World Cup matches will be easier to follow as I'll be on Brazilian time. Every cloud

[Sweder]

Four days after blasting my knee to shreds I woke up feeling stable enough to run. It was a modest affair, a single, lumbering lap of Landport Bottom with some oh-so-gentle hill work. The initial pain subsided as I warmed under blue skies and a beaming sun, working up a decent sweat-slick as I huffed through the long grass.

Home for coffee, ice, compression, elevation and anti-inflamatories before work. I'm chugging so many pills these days. All I need do is adjust my working hours to those of darkness and be continuously rude and ungrateful to all I meet apart from those I choose to favour and HST would be proud.
Small steps, high hopes.

The fortnight ahead offers long days stalking across miles of Excel's unforgiving concrete followed by a nine-hour flight to Orlando for the blissful madness of Children With Diabetes' annual conference at Disney. The joy in my heart is battling with the dread in my knee even as I think about it. The theme for this year's family banquet, held on the night of July third, is Independence Day. I'll need full Redcoat regalia, replete with dusty wig, or a tricorn hat and Thomas Paine outfit. And some tea.

   
Last year's Florida Formal outfit. I'm far left.
Click to enlarge. Note devotion to Barefoot Running.

[Sweder]

Gentlemen: I can announce the safe arrival of three plump barrels of Timothy Taylor's Champion Ale at the Bull in Ditchling, West Sussex. Hurrah! Though I shall miss the pouring of the first pint (said barrels are still settling in) the staff have assured me there will be plenty set aside for my return.

How about that

[glaconman]

How absolutely bl**dy marvellous.

A small peice of cycling-inspired, Yorkshire brewing history tucked-away in a rural Sussex village and waiting to be enjoyed by the man Himself.

Hope you enjoy it.

BTW does the landlord use sprinklers to airate the beer like we do in the North? I know some Southern beers don't actually benefit from this taste-wise. But beers like Taylors really do benefit from having a larger, creamy head.

[Charliecat5]

Aha, well played that man. I can see a trip to Ditchling is on the cards.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

You lot are quite a sad bunch of alcoholics, aren't you?





Can I join your group?

[Charliecat5]

You lot are quite a sad bunch of alcoholics, aren't you?

Sad? I'd say we're quite a happy bunch of alcoholics... hic.

[Sweder]

Confirmation arrived this evening
Le Champion is on at the Ditchling Bull
The landlord seems quite chuffed about the tip-off, too

And the verdict?
@Sweder ....sensational, everyone aspires to make beer like this.
I'll tweet when it's on #24hourwarning

I'm off to Orlando in the morning, back on the 7th.
There'd best be a pint or two with my name on it.

PS: The relevance of this pub to Le Tour. The Bull is the last stop before the dreaded Ditchling Beacon, highest/ steepest climb on the London to Brighton bike ride. Many cyclists stop off here for a pint of Dutch Courage before throwing their last beans into this monstrous ascent. An appropriate spot, then, to celebrate Le Tour coming to England. And a stone's throw from my office.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I think I know what your retirement is going to look like, Sweder.

[Sweder]

Mate, I'm in departures quaffing Virgin Red Heads by the score.
'Muddled raspberries, pressed lemon juice, cassis, framboise liqueurs, shaken with Bombay Sapphire Gin, then finished with fizz'.
There's a special place in hell with my name on it.

   

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Yep, that's pretty much what I meant.

[glaconman]

It does tend to fly out of the door very quickly. Fingers crossed Sweder.

LE CHAMPION