Drinking again

Another week comes to a close, and I scurried across the road from my office, to quaff gin and tonics and eat balls of fried cheese. It's fine, I'm taking pills to dissolve the fat, I can eat what I like. And it's not like four strong drinks and a glass of ale will do me any harm, is it?

There comes a point in life when your ability to handle the booze isn't the limiting factor; rather, it's your desire to have a bit more sleep. I was knackered this morning and I still got up at 6 to go for my run; I expect I'll be more knackered tomorrow, even though I had a Breakfast Beer today (no bacon included, alas) and a glass of red wine. And all the other drinks, too. But still, the training schedule is inviolate. I wonder if it was designed for drunks and office drones like myself.

The other problem with all this drinking is that you get home and then put on a 150 minute epic Chinese cowboy movie, and that deprives you of even more sleep. Dammit, I'm sure Mo Farrah doesn't have to put up with a pint of gin and Chow Yun Fat.