Running out of exercise

Today my plan to go to the gym was thrown into disarray, by the gym closing down. I went to Seven-Eleven, blithely purchasing a bottle of Pocari Sweat before walking up the street to be presented with nothing more exciting than a big orange hoarding proclaiming that my gym would reopen in September, somewhere else.

This was no good for me. It's probably also not good that for me, Pocari Sweat is just something you drink when you go to the gym and not a beverage with a remarkably disgusting name. How different things were just a few years ago, when, astonished by the little blue containers of electrolytes, I'd take countless photographs to amaze my friends.

If my friends were ever amazed by Pocari Sweat, that is.

Anyway, I can't postpone training until September. Luckily California Fitness still have venues in Wan Chai and Causeway Bay. Well, I hope they do; it's been so long since I was last at the gym in Wan Chai it's quite possible that's been demolished to make way for a five-storey Starbucks and Tiffany's. We'll find out shortly, just before I put myself through the first three miles of Marathon #7. Oh, California Fitness, how could you desert me when I needed you?

Can that be right? I keep thinking Osaka will be the sixth marathon, but now I'm not sure: Tromso, Vancouver, Tromso, Tromso, Gold Coast, Tokyo - it sounds a little implausible. I'll have to count my medals when I get home. Which isn't an example of me self-aggrandising: I'm just forgetful, and a bit shocked if I have already run that far...