I’ve made a terrible mistake.
There is still a fortnight to go to the start to the Challenge, yet I’ve been out buying scoff. This scoff sits there in Mission Control, in a sugary delicious heap, awaiting distribution to one of three piles.
Pile One: Scoff that is coming with me in my rucksack. This food has to last the four days until we reach Tulloch .
Pile Two: Scoff that needs to be posted to Tulloch so that I can eat for another two days until we get to the hotel at Laggan. This pile must include comestibles for the first Cheese & Wine Party as well as the normal day-to-day stuff.
Pile Three: Scoff that needs to last me three days to get to Braemar. This pile has to include even more comestibles for our second Cheese & Wine Party.
There’s flap-jack, Mars and Marathon bars, jelly babies, soups, mug-shots, packs of tuna and seemingly sixty seven packs of freeze-dried food as well. It’s lying there, sexily, calling to me: “Take me, Big Boy!”
How can you resist a wonderful chocolaty pile of munchy Mars bars? How can you possibly resist packets of jelly babies? And the Marathons too.
I can’t. I didn’t.
This fat bastard will be back out to Tescos tomorrow then…