We beat the Argies, and despite a weekend of national celebration, in which I played a full part, I managed a final, preliminary run today.
This time it really bucketed down. The tracksuit top was almost superfluous – it took just a few minutes to reach saturation point.
Today I explored another new little lane that we were told about last night during a get-together with our new neighbours. It was a good night. I’d still been slightly drunk from a crazy Friday evening, largely spent carousing in a post-match frenzy in a bar near Euston Square, but I might just have carried off the pretence that I was a reasonable neighbour. Hope so, as they all seem nice people along here.
So I pounded the lanes for 40 minutes this time, the only highlight being a shout from a cyclist as she splashed past in the downpour: "You’re completely mad mate, just like me!" Having a hint of what the next 18 weeks might have in store, I suspect she wasn’t far wrong.
