At Play in the Fields of the Lord

Duke: You're gonna have to go through hell, worse than any nightmare you've ever dreamed. But when it's over, I know you'll be the one standing. You know what you have to do. Do it.

I just got a, not entirely unexpected email, telling me that the Bomber's rugby is cancelled this morning due to a waterlogged pitch. An ungenerous part of my soul doesn't mind; there is more than a hint of penance in standing on a touchline in the freezing pouring rain for the best part of two hours on a Sunday morning watching twelve year olds failing to secure the ball at the breakdown.

In related mortification-of-the-flesh developments, I did my treadmill interval training yesterday with the album "Rocky Balboa: The Best of Rocky" blasting through the headphones. It is a compilation of music from all six films inter-leavened with dialogue, and it really does make a difference when you have to hang in for fifteen more seconds running as fast as you can.

Sly Stallone is to me as Eckhart Tolle is to Oprah Winfrey. I'm not proud.