So yesterday was good. It involved planks, crunches, lat raises and pizza and cupcake, and prosecco. Which means today involved a Maccy D’s for breakfast and dirty duck for lunch. It also involved, due to Sean’s lack of forward planning, a train trip to Somerset. Which meant the one thing it didn’t involve was any exercise.
However, having read Sean’s most recent post about his total lack of exercise during his week in Cornwall. I’m feeling quite relaxed, or at least not guilty.
So I’m currently at the Gaffney’ country house in deepest darkest Somerset and the main plan is to watch the rugby tomorrow. The plan before that is to get up, have a light brekkie and then go do hill training. Then have a hobbitish second breakfast and then watch (please dear god) Italy stuff Wales, Scotland stuff Ireland and England stuff France.
In a world of infinite possibilities, some of these things are bound to happen. I fear the only one that will actually happen is the world of hurt that the hill involves.