Deck the halls

21 Weeks to Go (2 December)

Shit the bed, it’s Christmas.

I use a weekend in Centre Parcs to build up my training regime – starting with carb loading and increased sleep, obviously – and take a spin off road.  Caught up with last week’s 22km triumph I head to Sherwood Pines and test my resilience on the mountain bike tracks.  I plump for the black run, a short but insanely hilly 12km, and plough through mud and stream excitedly reliving that Nike advert [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQ2XyttZYS8].  Fewer stags, mind.  This, finally, feels like proper running and the surprising camaraderie from the mountain bikers adds to my enjoyment.  One of them even offers me his Kendall Mint Cake.

Back at the villa I reflect on a new personal best, 24km, and spend a happy hour getting my body back to a healthy temperature in the sauna and bath.  My family return, breaking the calm and bringing with them tales of unprecedented local flooding – I’ve been so absorbed in my running that I’ve scarcely noticed the rain.  Slip in a ditch and you’d drown.

Sadly the flooding doesn’t prevent us getting back to London and work, where I’m amazed to discover it’s all gone a little bit festive.  Hospitals don’t mark Christmas with carols and decorations: Rather overtime and flu.  Everyone’s ill, the atmosphere’s foul and we gear ourselves up for a few months watching the elderly die alone and trying to conjure up spare beds.  Anyone who thinks that hospitals aren’t well managed should watch the systems kick into gear as soon as winter pressures role around.

To fight the depression my girlfriend and I go into Christmas overdrive, booking in at least one seasonal activity a day throughout December to compensate for spending last year’s on the beach.  We start things off by finally visiting Dennis Servers’ House with TL and Hol, a mere four years after it was originally mooted.  Amazing, especially when followed by a turkey roast in the pub next door.  After a quick nap on the tube I drag myself on a run to Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland: A more sinister and phallic collection of amusements you’d be hard to find, though the kids seem to love it.

Santa's friends reassured him that he had nothing to fear from the Savile Inquiry

The temperature hits -1.  Pavements ice over.  Windows frost. 

How festive.  What a fucking nightmare the next few months are going to be.