No more racing?

Tonight I started looking for a marathon in 2013 that I could enter. It's going to be another busy year, and I've got mixed feelings about reattempting Osaka; now I've thoroughly slain the monster of my poor time there, it feels like it would be odd to go back and run it again. The third time I ran Tromso wasn't as good as the second, although I'm not sure that's much of a guide to anything.

Hoarse

Although we were home by midnight, we'd been drinking for six hours, so when I woke up this morning at five a.m. because some nitwit was yelling, I couldn't think or see straight. I spent an hour boss-eyedly playing on the Xbox, then passed out again until midday. Is that still part of my taper for the race next week?

Lazy Sunday

Last night I was drinking in Arab Street so I failed to wake up in time to go for a run. It was a lovely sunny day, which was terrible news; if it had been damp and overcast, maybe I could have got out, but blazing sunshine and me sprinting along would be a recipe for lying on the ground, foaming at the mouth.

Happy New Year

Today is the start of the year of the Dragon. I commemorated this by skulking in my cave, guarding my mounds of gold. Well, hanging onto the duvet, which is close enough, if you value continental quilts.

A mountain of achievement

Today I had grand plans for everything that I would achieve, and I think I managed to fulfil most of them:

Get up late, complaining about eating an omelette in Wan Chai at midnight
Breakfast on chocolate truffles
Languidly pilot a motorcycle round a simulated racecourse without getting up from the sofa

Yes, it's fair to say that when I put my mind to it, there's not much I can achieve.

Sweet Dreams

I had a very exciting dream this morning. I'm not the sort of person to bore you with the minutae of my life, so suffice it to say it was incredibly exciting.

Also, I woke up thinking "golly, what an exciting dream."

Because upon waking, I assume the persona of a twelve-year-old schoolboy from the 1950s.

No, really.

Running in Taipei

I was at a loose end when I got to Taipei, so after getting in a strange man's car and being charged about 500 NTD over the odds to be driven from the airport to my hotel, I spent the afternoon not sure what to do, and conscious that I had the ActionAsia race the next day and didn't want to wear myself out running to and from between different tourist attractions.

Peng Chau

Today we took a ferry to Peng Chau, a small island near Lantau. On the way there, the ferry passed Disneyland, that Hong Kong money pit that I keep meaning to go to, but haven't quite get round to.

Unexpected pain

My beard needs a trim. I know this because every time I take a swig from this can of tepid Carlsberg, a few of the hairs from my moustache get trapped in the top of the can and are torn out.

It's aversion therapy for hairy alcoholics.

Strange things arriving in the post

Yesterday I was telephoned by the ever-efficient, ever-helpful Benson, Guardian of the Mansion in which I reside, to be informed that there was a parcel from Sweden waiting for me.  I could hardly wait to get home and find out what it could be.  More Pepparkakor?  More frankly painful licquorice-based throat pastilles?  A big bag of Plopp?

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Last night ended later than I expected; after the show I went to see some friends in Sheung Wan, shortly leaving for Singapore, and not wanting to have to transport their accumulated booze with them.