A funny thing happened on the way to the casino

Mindful of the wonderful performances by Mo Farah who won gold in the 10k one week and gold in the 5k the following week, and the fact that I watched these great performances from the casino, I thought I had better get both my arse and bike* into gear.  I know that this Olympics is supposed to inspire a generation (or in my case insipire a geriatric), but surely that involves actually getting up and doing something, and not gawping at the telly screen whilst holding two random cards and almost winning lots of money with them.

It sort of did.

It inspired a whole bunch of people in unfetching yellow t-shirts to run up and down Hove Lawns.  I noticed them as I drove past on the way to dinner one night.  I made a mental note - not only were they bright yellow, but they weren't going very fast.

It inspired a whole bunch of people in tight lycra to swim, cycle and run up and down Madeira Drive.  I noticed them as I drove past on the way to the pub one night.  I made a mental note - not only were they in extremely tight clothes, they were all going very fast.  In fact some of them overtook us.

Back to the yellow people.  It turns out that there is a running club called the Sweatshop Running Community.  Sweatshop is a chain of stores specialising in running paraphernalia.  I'm not sure if I could come up with a worse name for a running shop if I tried.  But, bless them, not only do they organise FREE 5k runs, but they also give you a free t-shirt when you complete five of them.

I may have mentioned that I'd do almost anything for a free t-shirt.  I've done three runs already.

I'm working on the lycra-clad speedsters.

There's no getting away from that yellow.
Might go nicely with my luminous-from-space-orange rucksack and puke-green trainers.

* Did I tell you that some bastard stole my bike?  My lovely shiny faithful road bike?  The one I use for all my triathlons?  And for life in general?  I probably didn't because, to be honest, I was too annoyed to trust myself to not go into another long rant.

Did I tell you that CS bought me a new bike?  It's more lovely and shiny than the nicked one.  I want to use it for all my triathlons and for life in general, but I'm too scared about it getting stolen.  So CS also bought me a lock.  It's a "Fugheddabouddit" lock, which apparently is so good that even people in New York can use it and not have to worry about anything.  It's like Fort Knox.  And just like Fort Knox, it's also really heavy and involves having to remember keys.  I'm not very good at carrying heavy things.  I'm not very good at remembering things.  I'm very good at having bikes stolen.   It'll end in tears.