July 2012

[Sweder]

I almost skipped it.
Almost.

Not that skipping anything would be terribly easy for a man of my ... substance, these days. But more of that later. I received a missive from Down Under wondering if I might still be alive. I replied, and, as I recounted recent events, realised I'd been suckered into an update, so here it is.

Plenty happening, not too much running-wise though. CWD conference was fantastic - there's a report up here http://www.childrenwithdiabetes.com/acti...report.htm. I did buy a pair of the latest FiveFingers whilst in the US - tyre tread soul, neoprene liner, adjustable top plate for comfort. I've been out once (on Saturday) and they felt terrific. I'll post (more) about that when I've managed a few outings.



Back in Blighty, summer finally showed up, just in time to give Messrs Smith, Amla and Kallis some much-needed batting practice against a lettace-limp England bowling attack. We've rarely looked so toothless in the past three years. Only consolation was Jim Maxwell letting the Aussie mask slip by tweeting that should Saffa win 3-0 England drop to 3rd in the World behind Aus. Shame it's come to that for your lot*, relying on the Proteas for your world ranking ; )

How about Wiggo? It's not sunk in here yet, but it will. First Brit to win the TdF in 109 years of trying, and he cruised it. He'll get a big welcome at the Olympics - I hope we give him the flag for the ceremony, though that may be too close to the road race. Sad to see Adam Scott blow up at Royal Lytham yesterday. I had him nailed on for the Claret Jug from Saturday morning, but the enormity of the situation swallowed him up at the end. It was horrible. Els has that maw-like leer when he's in for the kill, like the Great Whites that cruise off the Cape. His eyes roll back in his head as he closes on the prize. There's a terrible inevitability about the ending when those monsters close in, and so it was last night when the Big Easy sank his birdie on the last, and his teeth into Adam Scott's hopes. You could almost hear the links sucking the Aussie's resolved out of his bones as the roar went up around 18.

Family's all good. Shayne, Phoebe and I lounged and lolled in Key West after Friends for Life, chilling, drinking rum (me), snorkeling and eating far too much of everything. And there's the rub. I'm expanding exponentially, rivalling El Gordo for the RC (supersized) yellow jersey. The rebuild starts here. It will be painful and sweaty, but I have an eye on the Jog Shop Jog, plus some Hashing in Hong Kong in early September, so I'd best get to it.

Lard Ass

*apologies for lame attempt at sledging. It's simply too hot** to try harder
**clearly not that hot, in the global sense