Jun 30, 2010 0
Monday was not a proud day, but I’m hoping it will be a watershed moment of sorts.
My employers very kindly gave us all the opportunity to have a quick, free health check, the highlight of which was watching someone feint after having their finger pricked for a cholesterol test. I went down for a few minutes away from my desk, and to pick up a goody bag containing a free Company-branded travel mug. Read the rest of this entry »
Feb 4, 2010 8
After expressing my disappointment to Greeny (pictured below) about not being able to run The World’s First Kilomathon, he came up with a suggestion: “Why not train for the Robin Hood half marathon?”
He sure is
Feb 1, 2010 5
It’s never a good sign when the Chairman of your cricket club approaches you at a pre-season training session, arms outstretched, bellowing “I take it your training regime is fucked then” before grabbing hold of your man-boobs and giving them a comedy squeeze. Read the rest of this entry »
Nov 11, 2009 3
Monday night the missus and I went for our longest run so far. My guess that there were “probably” street lights on one particular mile and a half stretch of winding country lanes turned out to be incorrect, but we made it around the full 4.35 mile loop in about three quarters of an hour, which isn’t bad (and, per walkjogrun.net burned off 800 calories). I felt I could have gone quicker, but we ran at a comfortable pace and by the end — although my legs were tired and aching — I wasn’t especially short of breath. I’m taking this to be an encouraging sign; it suggests I must be reasonably fit to be able to run four miles and not finish coughing and wheezing my guts up. Read the rest of this entry »
Nov 5, 2009 1
The thing I love about playing sport is that we all play for ‘the moment.’ Whatever sport it is — football, netball, snooker, cricket, golf (technically a hobby as opposed to a sport, but still) — we usually know we’re not brilliant, but we still play, hoping and aiming for ‘the moment.’
The moment: the thirty-yard screamer, the three-pointer, the diving catch, the hole-in-one, the double on the black to win. We play because we all know we have it in ourselves to have a moment of glory. Every dog has his day, and all that. This is the only explanation I can think of for people who spend hundreds and thousands of pounds on golf equipment and green fees when they can’t even hit the ball straight. They hope for the moment. The applause, the cheers, the high-fives, the celebratory beer afterwards. It’s why shit people play sport, I’m convinced. Read the rest of this entry »
