12th October. Running Uphill Through Cow's Skitters In Sandals.

There's no way an ordinary human being can complete Ironman France without a strict training regimen.

Frankly we're into uncharted waters here with a divergence from the usual half-arsed minimum effort approach.

But really it doesn't seem right at all.

I mean, I see myself finishing in the top ten, the only training will be the long casual cycle down to the south of France on Eddie Webb's dad's bike I bought from David for a fiver in 1973.

Anyway this is all fantasm I tell myself heading up the Wallace Road ankle deep in bovine excreta and general gutters, luckily I was wearing clarks sandals for this 20k "training" run.

Well it was really 2 x 10k broken by tea with toast and jam at Alistair's who needless to say has little or no interest in endurance sport.

"I'm going back to Los Angeles, to go flying again"

"How can you possibly justify that?"

"It's my only hobby"

"Yeah but its kind of an expensive one compared with..."

"Stamp Collecting?"

"Well if you like."