This summer I spent 10 days in Italy at my mother’s place, along with my daughter Rhiannon. There were two things I was sure of during that holiday: one was that Rhiannon would not get up early and the other that I would. Perhaps I should make that three things: the great food, wine and daily aperitif would add “holiday weight”.
I wasn’t keen on the whole weight gaining concept, so I decided to bring my bike on holiday and train each morning, either cycling, running or swimming. I was back in triathlon training mode. My mother lives at the foot of some decent hills, and close to the sea, so I could choose each day whether to do a tough hill climb and easy descent, or head for the coast and run/cycle along that.
The first run was hard. Very hard. It was hot and humid, and post run I thought I’d try and take a selfie that showed it. I looked at the picture and thought – yeah, not bad. Tweaked it a bit, and thought – yes, that’s OK to post on Facebook. I received positive feedback.
The next day I rode. Decided on the hill climb, which was a tad shy of 9km with an average gradient of 6%. Again at the top I took another selfie trying to show the hard work that went into the climb. I think I succeeded.
I had to complete the set. A swim picture. It’ll do.
As I ran back to my mum’s after taking this picture one thought kept returning to me – am I turning into a proper narcissist?
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