I didn't get a chance to post yesterday, for which I unreservedly apologise. I was under some pressure at work, a combination of short-staffedness and the serial shortcomings of several other colleagues. Also, a horse died, which caused some consternation. I should qualify this: It didn't keel over in the office. I work for a periodical thats primary interest is equestrianism. And the horse in question was a famous steeplechaser, not any old nag.
If it's any compensation, I didn't get to race last night. The heat in London yesterday was phenomenal. It was so hot that I genuinely feared I might do myself a mischief if I overdid it at the track. I've managed to get myself quite fit of late, which is great. But with great power and all that. When one is fit, it's possible to go into the red in a medically contraindicated and damaging way. A combination of this and my Celtic inability of deal with proper heat persuaded me it would be wise to back away this week.
And just as well - for in a couple of hours I head off on a cycling holiday. I wouldn't fancy that with heatstroke.
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