Day 23: Pain in the arse
Fresh from my large run on Monday night, I woke early and went to the gym.
Now I gave myself an hour in the gym as I’m on a new fitness regime, and running in a team triathlon in August is forcing me to go through with it. After 30 minutess and not having seen the inside of a gym for a good few weeks, I could barely life my arms, sorry, sorry, I mean my guns.
Showering was difficult as I could barely soap up I hurt too much, and for some reason when I asked a shower full of naked men who wanted to soap me, everyone seemed to look at me funny; although some didn’t. Hobbling to work I wondered why on earth I just did that - but I did feel good.
After a fairly large day at work on Monday and getting only 4 or 5 hours sleep due to this new god-awful
A few Moosehead beers (a beverage I haven’t touched since first year University) a 14oz steak and baked potoato and I was happy again. And in all honesty it was the best steak I have had in the UK and close to the Top 5 I’ve had – I could actually cut it with a fork (which was good as it took forever to get my knife)!
About 10.30pm we left Bodeans. Coomba went left at Clapham Junction, and I went right up Lavender Hill to the Tasmanians' house. A few drinks to say goodbye to Kasi – who is leaving to Aus for three weeks – a discussion with Luke and Ash about rugby league being up there Tibetan yodelling in terms of how many supporters it has, blinded by Leah’s pyjamas and trying to recall if I had actually spoken to Adrian on Sunday night – and it was time to go home.
Limping home (tweaked my hamstring at training) and I was in bed by 12.30. But that wasn’t before I read the football match report I wrote for three games I didn’t even see – amazing the bullshit I can make up with a few statistics, 60% of people know that - read it for yourself.
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