I love the smell of porridge in the morning
Just when I thought everyone had finished being generous, more wonderful people have stepped forward to sponsor me and donate to this great cause. May I therefore say a big thank you to Brendan Hearne, Rob Jones, John Marsh, our Mick (my big brother), Gill Holden, Sara Woodward, Sarah Kemp and Ajmea Johal. Your support and comments have given me all the encouragement I could ever need and I can't thank all of you enough.
As the big day draws ever closer, I withdraw into my inner self and repeat the same 2 words in a zen-like mantra - "don't panic". OK, so the training programme has failed miserably but never fear dear sponsors, I still have a few cards up my sleeve even at this late stage of the proceedings:
I've given myself what many people would say is a ridiculous haircut but little do they know I'm now more streamlined than Lewis Hamilton's car and will glide through those Worcestershire country lanes like a hot knife through butter (well, at least over the downhill stretches).
Next, I'm not attempting any last minute fine-tuning adjustments to the bike. This may seem a little rash to the uninitiated but after almost destroying it on the eve of my last marathon, I'm restricting my mechanical efforts to simply ensuring that the saddle is pointing in the right direction. Must remember to check the instruction manual though to ensure I get that right.
The James Nutritional Plan has also been cunningly modified. No more will I lug 2 pounds of fruit-cake and a dozen cereal bars across the country on my back - no way (or is that no whey?). I reckon if I can eat enough porridge before the start, the slow release of 'energy' throughout the day will negate the need for any other foodstuffs. Sure I may be a little sluggish for the first hour or so but the slow release of whatever it is porridge slowly releases should see me through. My enlarged prostate means I still need to crack the conundrum that is fluid intake but I'm planning on a fully hydrated trip, after all behind every hedgerow along the highways and byways of rural England is a rural English toilet.
Yes, I love the smell of porridge in the morning. Smells like ........ well, porridge I suppose.
Thanks again everyone and please take care.