As Monday afternoon wends its excruciatingly slow way towards 5:30, I wonder to myself why I sup ale on a Sunday night. After a good weekend of training runs and eating lots of the right foods - and even missing the rugby in the pub - along comes Sunday night and before I know it I'm slightly befudduled watching 'Judge Dread' on TV!
And how high and bleeding mighty did I feel when my running partner cried off on Saturday morning due to being hijacked by Mistress Stella and the Fosters Brothers!
His turn to laugh at me tonight as I cough up the fags I said I would never smoke again and sweat out the bevvies. And I know the swine will take me for a epic this evening!
Never again! (I suppose I could pop out for a few when Wales play the All Blacks though!)
Anyone else suffer from weak resolve when faced by alcohol and rugby union?