Up at 4 this morning to get to West Kirby for the Wirral Triathlon and the heavens opened, adding to the misery of the 11° temp and swirling winds. How lovely to be jumping into the marina with 400 other wetsuit clad shivering idiots aged between 18-80 (all old enough to know better) and battle the waves for 750 metres. Get to the bike to find the shoes already soaked through, the talc inside forming a soft putty, oozing out the sides as I slip my numbing feet in. After battling the head wind for 2 hilly laps, get back to the marina and squelch into my sneakers, managing to share a couple of jokes before putting our heads down into the wind for 2 circuits of the marina. Thank god for a tail wind to the finish line. Now, imagine my delight to get back to my car, desperate to warm up and get home to my girls to find my beloved Porsche has chosen today to not start. Usually starting first touch, it chooses to sulk and punish me for bringing it out in the rain at 4am. Sometimes the only answer is to get a pint! While waiting for green flag I have found solace in a delightful, open beamed establishment offering numerous ales and a group of blokes who’ve met up to strum a mix of banjos, ukes and guitars. Sometimes, the unexpected treats are the best and once my feet defrost I may be tempted to get up for a jig! Happy Sunday everyone. By the way, I got 24mins for the 5k, smashing my PB…whoop!!
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