Wednesday the 30th of June, the last day of the Financial Year, and as luck would have it, one of the coldest and windiest days in the history of the world.
I was heading towards Kerferd Rd pier with Lee Lemons for our first beach fitness session, and I'm thinking to myself, "You are an important finance type guy. You definitely could have said you were busy with end of financial year stuff and got out of this. You've been using that excuse at work for a week now and everyone has bought it"
But no, I had sucked it up, put on a couple of t-shirts, a jumper, a coat and a beanie, and was going to training. We parked at the beach and eventually found the rest of the squad. The Mac and Mossy were missing, Hullsy was off steering Blaze towards the finals and the Official Squad Paparazzo was off trying to get a shot of Dannii Minogue's baby-bump, but everyone else was present and accounted for.
We went down and met the sand, got introduced to various wooden posts, and then went back to the bags to drop trou. However just before said trou reached half-mast, Dave, or as I renamed him that night, You-Freaking-Legend, announced that Night 1 was to be a team-bonding session, exercise cancelled.
Milkshakes, pizzas with king prawns whacked on-top, beers and no exercise, finally a training regime I can fully support.
Still waiting for Girl To Be Named Later to be named, we have realised we probably need someone who speaks French, otherwise none of us may ever get our meals or Valeer Milkshakes ever again.
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