That’s going to be my motto for the next week. I’m off to Cornwall with some friends for a week of relaxation by the sea. I’ve been counting the days until this holiday for about three months, no lie!
The people I’m going with are some of my oldest friends and it’s fair to say that we’re known for partying quite hard (even though none of us are spring chickens any more). This week could be an opportunity to sit on my arse, drink more red wine than most people consume in a month and feed myself with comfort food. You know how it is … half an hour walking by the sea and suddenly you convince yourself that you have the appetite of ten men and start ordering extra portions of chips. That would be disastrous.
I also have zero excuse for not keeping up the miles (I’m up to a comfortable 6 miles at the moment). If I can run around London, breathing delicious lungfuls of exhaust fumes and other people’s fag smoke, then I can sure as hell run in the beautiful surroundings of the Cornish coast. In fact, it will be a pleasure. The only drawback will be dragging myself out of bed while everyone around me sleeps off the effects of the previous night’s dinner and beer.
Training in general is still going really well. I’m well and truly in the swing of it, despite the minor setback of a bug over the last week (thankfully not the dreaded swine flu) that kept me separated from my trainers for a few days. I’m intending to go out tonight for a decent 4 miles to get me back on track.
So keep them crossed that I don’t succumb to temptation and turn into a couch potato. I hope to come back with tales of beautiful clifftop runs and healthy living!