Thursday, 8 January 2015

No Spain (or one of it's autonomous communities/islands) No Gain

So I haven't done a proper blog update in AGES because I was struck by a severe typing apathy which was possibly a good thing because all of my email replies were kind of blunt but succinct and I wasn't clogging up Twitter or Facebook and the world was generally a more clutter free place but now I feel like typing again and I think I might just keeping going without pausing for stupid things like commas or full stops do you think you can handle this will I just keep going yes yes yes?

I'm in a hotel room by myself- my least favourite way to be in a hotel room.

I've even got a double bed which only serves to point out that another person COULD  be in here. But they're not.*

So yeah I'm flying to Mallorca tomorrow morning. Which means staying in a hotel next to Liverpool airport tonight. You can probably hear the planes but I quite conveniently could be smacked across the face in my sleep and not wake up.

Here's the break down of our trip:

Warm weather = no ice, just ice cream.
Training camp = no ice cream, just chammy cream.
Warm weather training camp = some kind of compromise between the two?

There's actually only been one day so far this winter that I've crashed on the ice and to be honest I don't even regret it. As I fell my thoughtful brother turned around to check I was alright and crashed as well. So the pair of us spent Christmas Day sliding through Carron Valley on our arses in unison which I think means we're possibly in a comedy version of the Truman Show.

None the less I'm glad to be evacuating winter, especially with the team and the girls. I'll be wearing purely GB kit for the next 10 days straight so all I've got to decide is what colour sports bra to wear**.

Anyhows all kicks off at 05:30am tomorrow when we're getting up for our flight, so I better go fall asleep to that sweet boeing 747 lullaby.


*On reading this before clicking Publish, I notice I sound like a major perv. I'm not; I mean I like having someone to talk to. Although if I read THIS back I bet I sound unbearably sad. Eugh, how do I allude to being a loser without putting my hand right up and admitting it.

**Apart from on Wednesdays, when we wear pink.

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