I therefore decided that the sensible thing to do would be to try this.
With high caffeine content coffee.
I mean, what can go wrong, right?
|Coffee. With flames on. WITH FLAMES ON PEOPLE!|
So, two cafetieres, ready to go. The suspense was killing me. I mean, would this even be drinkable? WOULD I BECOME INVINCIBLE? WOULD I BE ABLE TO DO SO MUCH MATHS THE WORLD WOULD EXPLODE?
|Please note the GDBO mug. No other mug could hold a beverage so potent.|
|(May not have actually happened.)|
OK, so I really only did some adding and that a bit more quickly, but I was rather energetic. FOR FOUR WHOLE HOURS.
But yes. Doublecoffeeohmygod.
Other stuff that's happened apart from me making coffee is of course HBR,aka "The real boat race", etc etc. I was my first time watching it, and it was WEIRD. Powerless to do anything, but feeling the pain of losing and the the raw joy of winning all the same. It was emotional to say the least. More emotional than I thought it would be too: the memories and the pain of my two loses (rage) were dragged up raw to the surface.
It really is an odd race, a weird system. Your whole season is summed up in the outcome of one race. One seven minute race. Past successes are inconsequential, future successes don't matter. I did two of these in the blue boat, one in 2009 and the second the following year. Losing the first one was bewildering. More confusion then pain. Losing the second was devastating. Don't really know how to explain it really. It sounds really pathetic, but it was stuff like hearing Oxford cheering when they cross the finish line, and you still have a bunch more strokes to row, the fucking pity clapping on the row home. Christ. Bad times.
But yes, before I get lost in the midsts of time. Watching it having done it, the emotion was pretty intense.
First up was Blondie/Osiris. Something weird happened with Oxford steering into Cambridge, not moving, repeatedly refusing to move. Ended up with Blondie catching an epic boat stopping crab and having to restart. We (the dudes in blazers on the banks) all though they'd lost and had no clue what had happened further down the course.
Next up were the lightweight women. AND THEY WERE IN THE FUCKING LEAD.
Then, 3pm. The two women's blue boats. Fuck. This is it. This is what I came here to see. Fuck fuck fuck just fucking win please just fucking win.
The bank went quiet, trying to hear the announcer. Come on. Come on. Fuck fuck fuck.
They came past were I was standing, with Cambridge 1/2 a length down.
There was a ball afterwards, but I am always a bit shit at stuff like that. Probably because it involves dresses.
Other stuff other stuff. Change the subject.
I have been a rather self-pitying pathetic human being at the moment to be honest. Went out for a scull in my boat to cheer myself up a bit and I was shit. Like really shit. OK, so there was a tricky tailwind but still. It was like I'd never been in a boat before.
when I stopped training like a mental. If you want to be good at rowing you have to do it. A lot. And I'm going to have to accept that. I just wish I could get over myself and stop beating myself up about it so much.
Sorry, this is probably making exceptionally crap reading. Hmm. OK. I different tack. Here is a picture of a baby meerkat!
|From here. For all your baby animal picture needs.|
|Baby platypuses are called "puggles". And they are awesome. Even more awesome than doublecoffee!|
See! I have a beanie baby anteater and everything!
Just to warn you.