Things don't taste the same

It's strange. My first Triple-Os burger in months was a bit disappointing - too dry, or not heavy enough on the sauce, or my mind was elsewhere - but the first time I went running in my new compression tights, they smelt like Triple-Os special sauce. And that was before I put them on: it wasn't as if I'd perfumed them with Triple-Os flavoured perspiration.

I'm not doing that again

Last week I ran faster and further every day than I could remember managing in Singapore. I began to suspect that this miraculous acceleration wasn't because I'd found a new pair of legs, but because of what I was drinking.

When I read Brain Training For Runners, one thing that really stood out was about tricking your brain by drinking carbohydrate-rich sports drinks, and in particular drinking Accelerade, because it's the only one to contain protein as well. I was sceptical but interested enough to bring a 2-pound bucket of the stuff back from Bellevue, and although it tastes of artificialberry, drinking it was accompanied by this uncanny increase in my pace.

The Bombay Sapphire Diet Plan

I must have been very drunk last night, because I lost most of my memory of the party. I don't even remember writing last night's entry. I also lost half a pound in weight, which implies that the perfect diet for keeping yourself thin and trim is a quarter of a bottle of Bombay Sapphire every night and a handful of potato crisps.

Basically...

Today I felt sluggish, after the hyperactive rush of the first two days of the New Year, when you're full of plans and optimism and hope. Plans and optimism and hope that keep your brain fizzing so you don't sleep for half the night, and plans and optimism and hope that then dissolve to nowt in the dark fug of sleeplessness. Basically, my New Year's Resolutions are a bit like an enormous Alka-Seltzer.