I’ve just finished working out with Steve for the first time in two weeks. We’re still training for “endurance” (aka “pain”), which entailed me doing sumo squats holding a 42.5kg dumbbell, hamstring curls (burny) and working to fatigue with sets of 11kg dumbbell press on a fitball. The idea behind these was to do keep doing sets of 12 reps until I couldn’t get through a full set any more.

A smarter person might have faked fatigue a little earlier to save themselves agony tomorrow. I, on the other hand, got to my fifth set, made it to nine reps, and failed on the last three. Towards the end, I heard someone breathing so loudly the whole gym was looking to see who it was - tragically, ce moi. Mixed with the breathing was something resembling grunting, and I could see Steve trying to muffle his laughter while he helped me with the last couple of presses. Still, I think the grunting breather laughs last, as there were a lot of guys in there with smaller guns than mine.

So now I’m hot, and I need to eat something, which might have to be prawn dumpling soup, the perfect after workout meal, if you ignore the fact I almost always burn my mouth while eating it. But first I need a shower!

Today I’m loving: a late start tomorrow.