Breakfast is made, I go into the back yard, and as I tuck in to my scrambled eggs, the neighbour peers over to see what I’m drinking.
‘You athletes do some strange things in the morning’ he says. He is referring to my beetroot juice. After asking him what he means he says ‘well, I mean come on, who drinks red wine at 8am on a Saturday’, pointing at my glass. So once I corrected him, in the fear of him thinking I’m an alcoholic, he responds with ‘BEETROOT JUICE! like I said, you lot are strange’.
I guess he is actually right. I think more about the research and how it is going to help my heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen transport. Plus, I rarely get to a point in the afternoon where I think ‘ooooo, I could murder a beetroot juice right now’.
Tomorrow morning, I’m definitely hitting the red wine. But I need something to eat that is strange enough to spur on his conversation.