“With the correct technique you can tackle anyone!”

This was the last thing a rugby coach told me before I tackled a guy twice my size and weight. I bounced off him, hit my head on the ground and ended up with concussion. I never played rugby ever again and it left me with a lifelong distrust of coach’s!

Sidenote: Afterwards Andrew told me that people with concussion die eight hours after it occurs. I stayed up late that night watching the clock tick down to my impending death! Jools Holland was on TV and I my “death” was going to occur half way through the show which really annoyed me as the band I liked was due to play last!

The coach was correct, I could tackle anyone but he forgot to mention that sometimes I will fail no matter how good my technique is.

When doing events I look back at this and thank the coach for unintentionally giving my a good perspective on events and challenges. Yes, I can train hard, yes I can have the right technique but that doesn’t mean I’ll succeed.

Years ago, I climbed Kilimanjaro…actually I got 9/10ths of the way up. I stopped as I’d had enough. I’d reached my summit! When people asked afterwards whether I was disappointed not to get to the top I’d reply:

“No, the walk up was a boring queue of people trudging up a path but when I went down by myself it was amazing! I had the whole mountain to myself and got excellent views of the sun rising over africa.”

So the lesson is – I don’t worry about whether I succeed or fail. I just worry about whether I enjoyed trying because sometimes failing offers up much better experiences!

The “genius” Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Week after week I play squash and every single time I lose.

Am I insane? Am I doing the same thing again and again?

I don’t think so.

I’m a much better squash player now than when I started playing. I can see shots and angles of return that were previously unavailable to me.

I can vary my shot depending on whether I want to use pace or skill.

I can move around the court so that I’m always in the correct position to anticipate the next move.

Yet, I still lose week after week.

And this doesn’t bother me.

For me – winning is irrelevant. It only matters that I enjoyed the game and that I pushed myself to my limit.

So when I sign up for a challenge I don’t look at whether I’ll win, whether I’ll get a PB or whether I’ll succeed. I ask myself whether I’ll enjoy it.

My `A` race for the year is the Long Course Weekend. I saw it on TV and it looked fun. I have no idea how difficult or easy the course is. It doesn’t matter. I know I’ll enjoy visiting a part of the country I’ve never been to before.

Einstein famously never wore socks. He didn’t see the point when shoes were more than adequate at doing the same job. I disagree with him as I forgot my spare socks last week and ripped my feet to shreds in the afternoon trying to walk sock-less in leather shoes.

Maybe he wasn’t such a genius after-all.

“SNOW-MEGEDDON! SCOTLAND TO BE HIT BY -15C SNOW STORMS!”

If I paid attention to the weather forecast then I’d never leave the house. Todays ride was one of the best of the winter. Not too chilly, sunshine and no wind!

Strangely the canal had frozen over but the canal path hadn’t.

I wonder why that was?

“That looks like a massive snow cock!” Shouts a runner as we pass what looks like two large snow balls and one large shaft.

“Maybe its two snowmen cuddling up for warmth with a chimney in between them?” I replied.

“Its definitely a massive icy wang!” They shout back.

“I think you’re right” I concede.

Today was a 7 mile trail run that would normally have amazing views overlooking Glasgow but due to snow and fog the only thing I saw was an erotic snow sculpture.

I was late for spin class.

I’d popped into work on the way to the class to pick up a parcel from my desk. I’d then spent too long trying to work out the pin code to get into my office. I know it’s got a 4, a 7, a 1 and and a 9 in it. I just didn’t know the correct order. After twenty minutes of randomly trying combinations I had to abandon my parcel.

I thought I’d sneak into the class and no one would notice.

I was wrong. The class was full. Everyone stared at me.

I offered to leave! I’d already biked that day so didn’t need to bike again.

The instructor told me to stay and gave me her bike. The one facing the rest of the class.

This must be the spin cycling nightmare equivalent of standing in front of the school naked.

I decided to look down for the whole class and pretend no one else was there.

“Swim@1500?” Texts Andrew

“Ok!” I reply.

It’s claimed that twins are psychic but we prefer to rely on text message. Sending each other messages by thought alone has proved more unreliable than scotrail trains.

He once fell off his bike and broke his arm. If I was psychic I’d have felt his pain. I felt nothing!

Which is why at 1510 I was standing outside the pool wondering why he was ten minutes late. After another 10 minutes I decided to go in and swim as he mustn’t be coming.

I got changed and headed to the pool. I jumped in a lane. There was with one other swimmer in the lane so I waited for them to swim to me so I could check it was ok to share the lane.

“Hey!”

It turned out the swimmer was my brother

“Why didn’t you meet me here at 1500?” He asked

“I was outside!”

“Oh! I thought you’d come inside.” he replied

What did I say about twins not being psychic.

I have a New Years day tradition which I started last year. Does that count as tradition? How many years do I have to do it before it becomes traditional?

I climb a hill on New Year’s Day. It doesn’t matter which one. I’m not picky.

I decided to climb the hill nearest my house. Before I left I double checked the route on the map. It seemed simple. Walk to the top via one route and follow a different path down.

I decided to go Alpine style which is a another way of saying I couldn’t be bothered carrying a bag or a map. I’d regret that later…

How hard could it be to walk to the top of a hill and then find a path back down? Surprisingly difficult. There was no path back down. Whoever drew the map must have failed map school.

I could have walked back the way we came but instead I decided to make my own path. I went to the hill edge and headed down the steep slope. I could see the town so I aimed for that. There must be a path eventually…

40 minutes and no path later I was standing in the middle of a very muddy field. My shoes were muddy, my jeans were muddy and my nose was muddy. I’m not sure how that happened!

The field was the only thing keeping me from reaching the town. I could see the houses. All I had to do was walk across this field. The choice was simple. Retreat and spend time looking for a better way that might not exist or commit to the mud.

I choose mud.

I squelched my way across the field. The closer I got to the houses the more I realised I faced a non mud related issue. Their was no gaps between the houses. The only way to get to town was to jump into someone’s garden.

I hoped whoever’s house I invaded would be too hungover from the night before to notice their first footer is a 6ft tall stranger covered in mud.

I choose a delightful 3 bed bungalow to invade. They didn’t have a dog (I hoped) and their garden wall looked sturdy enough to clamber over.

I couldn’t see anyone in their windows so I jumped over. I landed in the garden next to their trampoline. At that exact moment a women appeared at the window.

She looked at me

I looked at her

I waved hello

And legged it!

I stopped running when I got to the house.

My new New Year’s Day tradition is to not scare the neighbors!