There are fewer pleasures in life that surpass quaffing £50 bottles of champagne while fine dining in Bam-Bou on a Friday night, especially so when the bill is taken care of. Indeed, the past three weeks' dining out have embellished my rotund proportions. Yesterday's barbecue and odd bottle of wine, and today's pork sausage, feta and salsa wrap (my invention) haven't helped either.

Today's beautiful weather and inspiring demonstration of athleticism by Rafael Nadal made a convincing case for getting off the couch. Running and I were never best buddies, but I do try, with the help of Map My Run, to do 25 minutes exercise three times a week. As mentioned already, the past few weeks have distracted me so today was going to be a struggle.



Half way in and I was struggling badly. Legs and chest would not cooperate. A 60 year old woman passing me out on Lambeth Bridge didn't help. In the end, I kicked like Sonia and showed that old lady who the better athlete was. A young girl then glided past, who strangely appeared to take only two steps every 10 metres; she was positively gliding. There was nothing left to do except give up when I got heckled outside a nightclub in Vauxhall (day nightclub).

The End.

tags:running

Published by Colm.