What A Nice Day For The Eton Mess

So is L feeling fit after her mega training session yesterday? Not sure. When she finally replies to my emailed question, she admits she’s been kipping on a pile of files. Ah, that’s always an indication of a good training session.

She’s says she seriously considering tucking into the meringues she’s bought for my post-race Eton Mess tonight to boost her energy levels. That’s a dessert by the way and not something kinky involving confectionery. According to Wikipedia, Eton Mess may have been invented by a Labrador, who accidentally sat on a picnic basket. I wonder if they picked the dog hairs out before they sampled it?

Today's shopping challenge. Daughter has asked for pesto, a green one. Unfortunately there are lots of green ones on the shelves at Sainsbury’s. L advises that she'll probably like any of them and to 'just close your eyes and reach out'. Sounds like a good way to get arrested.

In the evening it’s race three of the Grand Prix, the Wollaton Park 5k. So local that I can just walk across to it. I feel well recovered from the White Rose and have decided I’m racing this one. Full race pace. L and the dogs come across to support and even Daughter is on the park, although for unrelated reasons but she ends up kind of supporting me, which is cool.

I always target certain people in these races, usually women, because well, apart from the fact I don’t like being beaten by our fairer sex, they’re easier to recognise and pick out than the men. For example only five women beat me in the first race this year but seventy men did and it’s a bit difficult to remember the identity of seventy men. Today however the person I select for special treatment is a man. He’s beaten me in both races so far but because he’s quite distinctive I know from memory that I usually beat him. So he’s the ‘rabbit’ for tonight. He’s also over 50, so beating me should be illegal anyway.

As we line up at the start I’ve already got dessert on my brain, ‘Hello hurrah, there’s a price to pay, to the Eton Mess, Eton Mess’ as Paul Weller once said, or something like that.

Then we’re off and I pass my target early on. ‘Hello hurrah, cheers then mate, it’s the Eton Mess, Eton Mess’. That’s it really, game over, so he’s not much of ‘rabbit’ for me.

Not only is Wollaton race three this year when it’s usually race two but we have a new course as well. It seems more on path than grass which makes it a little quicker but to counteract that it seems to be hillier than usual or perhaps that’s just my imagination.

I beat my ‘rabbit’ by over a minute and record a PB for 5k, in fact about 20 seconds up on my old best, albeit on a dubious course which may have been nowhere near 5k but my position is good so I’m pleased.

So home for dessert. ‘Hello hurrah, what a nice day for the Eton Mess, Eton Mess’