The faithful reader will know that I am not afraid of incorporating the assured findings of recent scientific research and the latest fads of the snake-oil vendors into what I so ambitiously call "my life". Also that I am not usually shy of sharing these fascinating snippets with you, gentle reader, though I did spare you, I think, the inclusion of nuts into my daily regime - something that caused me long reflection. Long story short, chocolate nut porage, with walnuts, cashews, hazelnuts and almonds. Carry on like this and I'll be adding fish-oil and chopped liver to my morning oatflakes.
Anyway, moving swiftly on, I'm trying to sleep longer. Our wild social agenda prevents me going to bed earlier, so that means staying in bed later in the morning.
But I've always got up by 6:30!
But good men get up early! Everyone says so!
But I go running at 6:30!
Aha. Leaving aside any pretence at being a "good man", whatever that may mean, and the steely glare of tradition, how can I run if I don't get up till ... shudder ... 7:30 or even 8?
So today found me gallumphing down Rue Profond at 9am. 9am! It was light! The sun was shining! The good burgers of Pessac were hieing them to the market! And I was hoofing me down the newly-resurfaced lane to the chateau.
It was fine. Nobody screamed, pointed, stared or even stopped their galloping horse.