Finally headed out for the first time since the collapse of Juneathon and the sprained ankle to restart the old 13-week programme – again. I’m becoming a cliche, a formula, an old chestnut. The Labrador came along despite the 25 degrees at 8 pm. The park was chocca with footballs and picnics and people just lolling around reluctant to admit that the weekend was, in fact, over. Ha, corporate slaves. The office bully awaits. Now get out of my way.
Yes, coz I’m on a mission. I have to crack this sucker. And a combo of Greenwich Park, ‘Stomp’ and sheer free-spirit will power is going to launch me on my way.