The Morning After

Woke up this morning, body aching like I was 90 years old instead of just 26, struggled to get out of bed, dressed and into work on time, and generally been in a bit of a sleep-craving daze all morning.

What caused this Monday morning to feel so harsh, I hear you ask, was it an all night drinking session with some old school friends? A bottle of wine too many with the girlfriend perhaps?

Err.... no. Six and a half hours of sitting in a kayak down on Chichester Canal.

We held a regional kayaking day yesterday, the first of hopefully a series of days over the coming summer. Whilst my body suffered (it's been about eight months that I've even gone near a kayak, let alone sit in one all day long) I have to admit it was fabulous fun (even if I did stare at the cadets' obvious complete lack of fear with envy in my eyes, I remember being absolutely terrified when I was kayaking at that age). I believe that, phsycologically as well as technically, most of the cadets made more progress in one day yesterday than I did in about three months.

All I need now is the after sun lotion (my arms are redder than Larry The Lobster) and deep heat to ease my aching bones. Somehow I don't think I'd be able to get physiotherapy paid for by the Ship's Committee.