I wake up and it's 6.45am - the phone is ringing for me but it means I've slept 6 hours uninterrupted for my night shift. Friday has started well. I sort out work things I have to sort out, sleep an extra 30 minutes and head to the beach. It's just after 8am. I get the perfect park. The day is warm, sunny and the waves are breaking just like in postcards and surf magazines. The triathletes have a competition tomorrow so it's a short but high intensity swim session. Just getting into the water is heavenly and cruising over these smooth and reflective waves is so good I laugh out loud. Of course we then get more serious - but it's still fun, and I don't get left behind. I breakfast at the regular diggies (they have a new website) with coach Jamie while the rest go off cycling. Breakfast is great and cute men shower in the background as they come off the beach (Jamie doesn't see, but that's not his thing).
Work is busy and I get to see a guy who lives at a well known seedy hotel, and has done for years... much of it has been recently remodeled - but not where he lives. He's not as sick as I was lead to believe so I'm happy not to have to tell him he has to move out, yet. But it was a kind of adventure getting in to where he lives, but not nearly as adventurous as it sounded when I was told about the place. No one tried to sell me heroin nor seduce me to their boudoir.
After work I head to the gym and I surprise myself by running at breakneck speed on the treadmill, without actually breaking my neck! I run for 35 minutes and sweat for the next 40 minutes at the gym, and I still can't believe I'm actually running regularly - I'm a swimmer not a runner - but things do change... I've finally worked out how to use The Frenchman's old ipod properly, so I don't get all these crappy ABBA songs in the middle of my run (how did they get there - did he put them there??). It's much better.
I get home and I'm still full of energy, and the Australia Day long weekend has begun. It's time to fly away...