Baffled, groggy

Today, baffled and groggy, I went for a 14-mile run. This would have been less unpleasant if I'd got up an hour earlier, before the sun came up, but you can't always pick the battles you want to fight. I ran as far as Tanglin Mall, the same sort of route I got lost in months ago when I went out for a five mile run, and made it back without stopping, although the later parts of my run were as miserable as sin. Getting home, exhausted to the point that I couldn't sleep, I fell into bed and only woke when a massive thunderstorm hit at midday.

Languid, baffled, groggy, we left the flat and took a bus to the Botanic Gardens, where I ate pizza and drank beer, then took the train back home, and fell asleep on the floor while watching motorcycle races. Of late, the racing has become more processional; it's a good example of somebody perfecting a sport and making it boring to watch.

We watched some of Never Say Never Again. To begin with, we watched it dubbed in Hindi. This was quite hard going, although it's worse in English. Sean Connery had transformed in twenty years from a suave, tough spy (who was always being ambushed) into somebody's dad, being knocked about in a health farm. When we got to the terrible video game, I had to turn it off.

We also went out this evening to a bar I'd run past twice this morning, to watch some more sport on TV and drink too much. I keep saying I'll stop before the marathon but there's not long left to do that now. Dear oh dear...