These free lazy mornings that I’d envisioned full of reading and comedy DVDs are becoming ever so slightly tiresome after the second day. I end up just slobbing around counting down the hours till I have to wake-up properly and head in to train, a time which normally I don’t want to arrive as slobbing about is at least warm. I suppose it’s no bad thing giving my body time to recover as it is shocked back into becoming the not-so-well-oiled, slightly creaky machine it was before Christmas.
Training today was not warm in the slightest, but at least I’ll sleep well tonight. We begun with a cardiovascular session, which was actually okay when my second wind eventually arrived, I think it had been left in the mother country. We had to take our pulse intermittently and then multiply by some number. I could never do the maths in time in French so ended up just taking an educated guess which seemed to impress everyone, especially Serge who seems a little disappointed at the lack of Glenlivet or at least Smoked Salmon – but I blame Easyjet’s small print and harsh regulations...
We then went to train as backs. This is one instance where I prefer the French, trios-quarts, and feel that we, in English should use three-quarters more, like back in the day. Anyway, we begun with some kicking which, at our leisurely pace, put me in a great mood. When this moved on to cross-field kicks I was positively ecstatic, wishing that every Tuesday could be like this, as I congratulated myself on another egg that dropped into the outstretched arms of some punter on the wing. But, as always, I was wrong to allow myself such an emotional peak as we moved on to some passing. Oh well, I thought, could be worse, kicking and passing is a session I would take every time. Again though, we moved on to something else. And we kept moving on as the drills kept appearing. I couldn’t keep track of the cones as they seemed to change their positions every time I turned my back. After an hour and 35 minutes I was well and truly finished and could barely feel my hands. I shall buy some gloves.
We then had a meeting which was something to do with re-focussing our efforts for this next part of the season. It was mainly for the espoirs, but it was interesting to see how their set-piece percentage compared with the autumn test teams. I also learnt a new word: exigence which has something to do with demands/requirements/discipline. What a disappointment, now I’ve looked it up. It was said that the season so far has flown by, I looked doubtfully at the floor, and the rest of it will fly by quickly too, which is probably true.
Sometime later in the week I think I’ll head into Paris and soak up some culture, a museum, perhaps an art gallery, or even get lost in the sales...In fact, the sales in Paris don’t begin until the 11th January which sounds a lot more civilised that half of Britain logging onto Argos as soon as Christmas Day becomes Boxing Day. So I’ll take my camera, a map and a guidebook and fill half a day pretending to tell my Manet from my Degas... I’m looking forward to it already.
ps, The Times says today that the French are the unhappiest, saddest and most pessimistic nation on the planet. My view: hmm...no comment...
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