The big news is that both John and I have picked up sporting injuries. John, in a move I can only explain as temporary insanity, decided to play touch rugby with some colleagues after work. His body, in understandable protest at this diversion from its usual course, retaliated by giving him a side strain worthy of a trip to the doctor and several weeks of complaint to those of us sitting near him in the office.
Not to be outdone by this, I badly bruised my finger trying to catch my falling bike. Doesn't sound quite so manly as a rugby injury does it, but I assure you the force of the blow couldn't have been worse if I had decided to punch the wall with only the offending index finger.
Despite this, with a little under three weeks to the event training is going well, just so long as you consider short jaunts along the river towing my son on a tag-a-long bike to be training. John, for his part has bought his better half a bike and talked confidently about taking her out riding. Who needs personal trainers with this sort of commitment!
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