Training and training

I rushed to the office this morning to do a bit of working before an all-day training session. The trainer kept going on about how he'd do his best to let us out early, which I didn't think was the best approach to take: I don't want to be stuck in a room with somebody who's irrepressibly effervescent, but it's a bit distracting when the person training you is implying that he's a distraction that you should hope to minimise.

In fact, I felt that we could probably have rattled through the material faster if he hadn't kept telling us how he'd do his best to finish early. Maybe it was some sort of reverse psychology.

After a day of this, I got back to my computer to find five emails, which suggests that when I'm not at the keyboard, stirring up trouble, everything is quiet. I've made my own life busier than I needed to. That's a worrying thought. I worked for another two hours then scuttled out of the office, rushing back to the hotel to change into my freshly laundered running kit, and then ... sit on the bed finishing the Len Deighton book I'd downloaded.

It was something of a masterpiece, the tension gradually ratcheting up as it reached its climax, with a whole series of great plot twists in the final pages. Having got through it in less than an hour, I went outside and ran a quick four miles.

Well, quick for me after a day indoors and still recovering from my epic sunburn. Full of anger at a couple of minor problems I'd spotted late this evening (or raging at somebody patronising me and telling me they weren't problems, somebody else was bound to have done those things on purpose, nothing to see here, everything's fine, carry on whistling past the graveyard...) I charged along the path, getting out to the Singapore Flyer and then going back, on dark and slightly slippery paving stones. I didn't fall in the water though, so nothing too eventful.