Home sweet home

Well Blog, Back home after my week’s camping trip to the smokeand surprisingly keen and eager to go for a trudge. Not too stiff at all!!!!!! Have a stack of stuff to do, so I’ll keep this short – its just that I thought you might have  been a bit worried post London Trudge. No need. I have to sort out the sponsorship; I must say that I am a bit embarrassed by it all; friends, relations and many people I don’t know have been so kind. I am sure they all appreciate what a good job they have done. Much more on that, thank yous etc when I have the winning times sorted. At the moment, I am hoping that my first cursory check is incorrect, or things could get a bit embarrassing!!!?? One thing I must mention ... a long,long time ago, about the same time that the levy was dry, I mentioned at some length my concerns with a possible doppelganger, well you may find this hard to believe, but I may just be onto something .... Read on. Excitement growing. Are you on the edge of your seat? At about 3 miles into my trudge on Sunday morning, when I was still fairly compost mental, I heard someone shout from the watching crowd ‘Come on Ron Hill’. I couldn’t believe HE could be so close the way I was flying down the highway. Not a chance Fredrico. I resisted a look. ‘Come on Ronnie Hill’ at about 6 miles before Cutty Sark hoved into view on the starboard side. The buggers tracking me? I did look but could not see HIM. At 8 miles I heard a ‘come on Hilly’. Time for heroics. I kicked hard and almost over took another jogger. I heard no more shouts for Mr Ronald Hill esq. so I was rather please that my mid race devastating turn of speed had got rid of him finally. Much of the rest of the proceedings during the course of the morning did not register as being too important to my future life so I will not dwell on detail so as not to upset you Blog. So, I staggered up the finishing funnel several hours later and was greeted with a bear hug by one of the officials, marshalling the dead, the injured and the walking wounded along to the baggage buses. ‘By Ronnie, you done well, lad.’ I said nothing – not that I could anyway. I rest my case and go for absolution and an exorcism first thing tomorrow. Long live Hopple G.

                                                                 Colin