Saturday morning. Last night I went out for a quiet drink to celebrate my little sister's birthday. I've had five hours sleep, no dinner or breakfast and I'm still very pissed. I also thought it would be a good idea to do Parkrun again this morning, at least I've sweated out some of the booze. I don't smell too good.
The Mixed Pond beckons. A swim can usually cure the most evil of hangovers. The rejuvenating waters have no affect, I can barely lift an arm to swim front-crawl. I swim breaststroke and enjoy the gentle sounds my fingers make as they cut through the water, it distracts me from the sound of last night's ale sloshing round in my head. I swim a couple of lengths, I couldn't possibly manage another one, I wish I could have said that last night.
One of the lifeguards takes pity on my wretchedness and offers me a cup of coffee. I don't drink coffee any more but gratefully accept a cup, I can't tell if it makes any difference.