Hello nice person who reads my blog. How’re you? Me, I’m fine. I’m currently sitting on a not-very-busy-at-all train to London and my tummy is full of coffee.
Actually, it’s just dawned on me that the emptiness of the train probably has something to do with the fact that it smells as if someone got a hundred pee-soaked towels and put them on a radiator for a couple of days. Seriously, who would do that???
Anyway, as I was saying…
I’ve got a ticket to the Running Awards, where this silly little blog that you’re reading right now with your eyes has been nominated for an award. The quality of the competition in the blog category is simply staggering and I haven’t a hope in hell of winning, or even coming close. I think they may have invited me along just for a laugh. It’s like wee Jimmy Krankie playing basketball against all of the LA Lakers.
But it promises to be an ace night out, surrounded by all things running-related. I’ll get a chance to meet some of the lovely people whose blogs have kept me entertained for years, and hopefully see a few old faces from the running world too.
I’ll be waffling on about the evening as it progresses on the twitter. If you want to see who wins what (or more likely, an increasingly disjointed tirade of drunken nonsense) have a follow of me at @borntoplodblog
Huuuuge thanks to everyone who voted for me. You’re all very nice.
Except for you, Keith, obviously.