Having run Friday morning, I gave Saturday morning's usual session a miss this week. Besides, I was attending my first ever stag do in the evening. I had been advised to practice talking about women and cars. I wasn't sure that was completely right for this particular group and the research was boring, so I had a drink and an afternoon nap like an old person instead.
I did spend some time researching Breakdown Cover, as I've just had a renewal notice from my current provider. They want to charge £137 for the year and the comparison sites are presenting some companies prepared to offer equivalent cover for under £50. I'm sure you get what you pay for, but I've tried reading a lot of the policy wording documents and, although I'm not stupid, it's all utterly meaningless. Could someone please just tell me who to go with and what level of cover to purchase if I want to be able to get home from anywhere in the UK and have a hire car if mine's seriously poorly, including home cover?
Anyway, this stag do business. I've heard quite appalling things and, not having been into Brighton for a night out, much less a Saturday night, I was interested to see if it was all as bad as I've been led to believe. Well, I can only say I was very pleasantly surprised. We went to Due South (9 of us) for a 3 course meal. I can wholeheartedly recommend this as a meal option, if you don't mind paying a bit. It's worth every penny and, although I was on water all night I understand the wine list is very good too. The staff are patient, friendly and can put up with drunk old men being a bit difficult. I did notice a tendency among the clientele to pour their wine using the thumb-in-the-dimple-on-the-bottom-of-the-bottle-that-people-who-put-their-thumb-in-probably-know-the-name-for technique, as opposed to the more common grab-it-by-the-neck-and-tip-it-upside-down we were using. But, live and let live, I say.
We fitted right in, with Ollie (the other youngster and son-of-the-bride) regaling us with edifying tales, such as and e.g. his friend used to DJ in a club in Brighton and Ollie used to come down and meet him and then the DJ would drive them both back up to London and on the way out of Brighton they would stop off at a place called Top Totty where the women weren't actually up to much but if you bought a lapdance you got a free pizza so why not?
Then it was on to The Cricketers on Black Lion Street for a few drinkettes (mineral water for me) and a civilised conversation. The Cricketers has perhaps the most cheerful bouncer ever and a really nice atmosphere, even at the end of what had clearly been a very long night for some.
The guys' taxi arrived at 12:30 to take them all back to Heathfield, and it was while walking back to the car that I began to see signs that Brighton's not entirely benign at 1am on a Saturday night (Sunday morning). There were hundreds of young people (and some old ones, ick) 'walking' as if their legs were on backwards and they were trying to avoid gaping holes in the pavement, only there were none. I felt all sort of grown up and superior.
I'm fairly sure I've scuppered any chance of being invited for a week of largeing it in (on?) Ibiza, but most of my friends are married already, anyway. Some of them have even found the time to get divorced as well.
I've digressed massively from the training-for-a-marathon raison d'etre of this blog. I do that, you know. I'm famous for it at work.
So, back on topic. I finally got to bed last night at about 2am. So that would be this morning, then. I'd made some vague noises of a '15k tomorrow' nature, but in my head at least had given myself the option of 12k. Thank god, because how hot and humid actually is it actually? Also, I didn't sleep all that well. I think my body had gone into shock from not being in bed at 10pm, or something, but I was still awake at 3, awake again at 5 and again at 7.30, eventually getting up about 9.15.
I'm very lucky to be living so close to the majority of the Brighton marathon course. I tend to head South and hit the coast at the bottom of Boundary Road and then head into the centre along the prom, and then back. Ooh, I must digress again.
This is the second run I've blogged here. On both occasions, there have been cyclists on the No Cycling bit down by the sea. But, do you know what? I don't care. They are big enough to see coming if they're heading towards me and, if they're going the same direction I am, one of those laws of relativity things means I am basically stationary in relation to any object whose velocity can be measured, and they can come past me with no problem at all. The problem? Pedestrians. Keep your dogs and your disgusting ill-mannered offsprings under control and there's no reason why cycling, walking, running and those people who are really old enough to know better but travel around on boots or planks on wheels can't all use the same space.
I got to 5k in 32 minutes, which was quite nice. On the way out, the sea breeze was in my face. The 7th kilometer was huge nightmare, in part I think because I'd run across Hove lawns and was travelling back alongside the coast road and the cycle lane - which, by the way, was absolutely rammed; has anyone considered the possibility that congestion could be a reason why some cyclists, especially those who can wear lycra without getting vomited on and travel at respectable speeds, might not want to be restricted to a 2-foot-wide section of one of the widest pavements in christendom?
Kilometers 8, 9 and 10 were quite good (I was back by the sea, you see, and the Lucozade Sport was kicking in), but 11 and 12 were pure torture.
I finally finished in 1 hour 8 minutes and 59 seconds. Theoretically, this is still sub-4-hours for a full marathon, only if you consider I was barely moving by the end and this implies additional downslowage over incremental distances, let's call it 5 for now.
We have recorded the Girls Aloud concert at the O2 (I LOVE THEM), which I shall now watch while again trying to decipher this breakdown cover rubbish. Please comment with a suggestion ASAP if you have one and save me some work!
I did spend some time researching Breakdown Cover, as I've just had a renewal notice from my current provider. They want to charge £137 for the year and the comparison sites are presenting some companies prepared to offer equivalent cover for under £50. I'm sure you get what you pay for, but I've tried reading a lot of the policy wording documents and, although I'm not stupid, it's all utterly meaningless. Could someone please just tell me who to go with and what level of cover to purchase if I want to be able to get home from anywhere in the UK and have a hire car if mine's seriously poorly, including home cover?
Anyway, this stag do business. I've heard quite appalling things and, not having been into Brighton for a night out, much less a Saturday night, I was interested to see if it was all as bad as I've been led to believe. Well, I can only say I was very pleasantly surprised. We went to Due South (9 of us) for a 3 course meal. I can wholeheartedly recommend this as a meal option, if you don't mind paying a bit. It's worth every penny and, although I was on water all night I understand the wine list is very good too. The staff are patient, friendly and can put up with drunk old men being a bit difficult. I did notice a tendency among the clientele to pour their wine using the thumb-in-the-dimple-on-the-bottom-of-the-bottle-that-people-who-put-their-thumb-in-probably-know-the-name-for technique, as opposed to the more common grab-it-by-the-neck-and-tip-it-upside-down we were using. But, live and let live, I say.
We fitted right in, with Ollie (the other youngster and son-of-the-bride) regaling us with edifying tales, such as and e.g. his friend used to DJ in a club in Brighton and Ollie used to come down and meet him and then the DJ would drive them both back up to London and on the way out of Brighton they would stop off at a place called Top Totty where the women weren't actually up to much but if you bought a lapdance you got a free pizza so why not?
Then it was on to The Cricketers on Black Lion Street for a few drinkettes (mineral water for me) and a civilised conversation. The Cricketers has perhaps the most cheerful bouncer ever and a really nice atmosphere, even at the end of what had clearly been a very long night for some.
The guys' taxi arrived at 12:30 to take them all back to Heathfield, and it was while walking back to the car that I began to see signs that Brighton's not entirely benign at 1am on a Saturday night (Sunday morning). There were hundreds of young people (and some old ones, ick) 'walking' as if their legs were on backwards and they were trying to avoid gaping holes in the pavement, only there were none. I felt all sort of grown up and superior.
I'm fairly sure I've scuppered any chance of being invited for a week of largeing it in (on?) Ibiza, but most of my friends are married already, anyway. Some of them have even found the time to get divorced as well.
I've digressed massively from the training-for-a-marathon raison d'etre of this blog. I do that, you know. I'm famous for it at work.
So, back on topic. I finally got to bed last night at about 2am. So that would be this morning, then. I'd made some vague noises of a '15k tomorrow' nature, but in my head at least had given myself the option of 12k. Thank god, because how hot and humid actually is it actually? Also, I didn't sleep all that well. I think my body had gone into shock from not being in bed at 10pm, or something, but I was still awake at 3, awake again at 5 and again at 7.30, eventually getting up about 9.15.
I'm very lucky to be living so close to the majority of the Brighton marathon course. I tend to head South and hit the coast at the bottom of Boundary Road and then head into the centre along the prom, and then back. Ooh, I must digress again.
This is the second run I've blogged here. On both occasions, there have been cyclists on the No Cycling bit down by the sea. But, do you know what? I don't care. They are big enough to see coming if they're heading towards me and, if they're going the same direction I am, one of those laws of relativity things means I am basically stationary in relation to any object whose velocity can be measured, and they can come past me with no problem at all. The problem? Pedestrians. Keep your dogs and your disgusting ill-mannered offsprings under control and there's no reason why cycling, walking, running and those people who are really old enough to know better but travel around on boots or planks on wheels can't all use the same space.
I got to 5k in 32 minutes, which was quite nice. On the way out, the sea breeze was in my face. The 7th kilometer was huge nightmare, in part I think because I'd run across Hove lawns and was travelling back alongside the coast road and the cycle lane - which, by the way, was absolutely rammed; has anyone considered the possibility that congestion could be a reason why some cyclists, especially those who can wear lycra without getting vomited on and travel at respectable speeds, might not want to be restricted to a 2-foot-wide section of one of the widest pavements in christendom?
Kilometers 8, 9 and 10 were quite good (I was back by the sea, you see, and the Lucozade Sport was kicking in), but 11 and 12 were pure torture.
I finally finished in 1 hour 8 minutes and 59 seconds. Theoretically, this is still sub-4-hours for a full marathon, only if you consider I was barely moving by the end and this implies additional downslowage over incremental distances, let's call it 5 for now.
We have recorded the Girls Aloud concert at the O2 (I LOVE THEM), which I shall now watch while again trying to decipher this breakdown cover rubbish. Please comment with a suggestion ASAP if you have one and save me some work!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Apologies for all who, like me, hate text verification, but Poland is full of scum, hitting me with 10 to 20 spam comments a day and this is the only way to stop it.