So, I debated whether to go training this evening as I didn't feel great, but my conscious got the better of me and I went. Twenty minutes in to a hypoxic set (holding breath for a stupid amount of time while swimming hard) and my head was pounding!
Annoyed, I got out and sat down, but 15 minutes later I knew I couldn't get back in, and at this stage was so hacked off that I could have been at home doing something productive instead of wasting my time at the pool.
Bottom lip out and in a huge sulk, Mark, as always, came to the rescue with a kebab, and went to the chippie to get me some chips while I waited for the kebab to be cooked.
Feeling very spoilt, and greasy, the bottom lip eased its way back and a smile returned to my face.
Sometimes you just need a good man in your life. And chips.
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