I ate a lot of tapas yesterday but was mainly focussed on my favourite drink of the day: kirr. It's an aperitif as old as the sea but so damn tasty, especially when you get to make it yourself: raspberry liquor and cold white wine, proportioned to taste.

I told some friends about my blog. They thought it was funny, didn't believe I had time for it and Danny mentioned that it must mean I'm an exhibistionist. He's right. For now.

Around four o'clock, when all the eating and drinking had finished, I tried to go to bed and sleep. Then I started feeling a little queasy every hour. At six I was considering to send an sms to Lien to cancel the whole running participation. I typed some lettres on my cellphone, dozed off again and failed to send the sms. At nine I decided there was no excuse for not running. I stayed in bed until about eleven, took a shower when I got up, ate a sandwich and a banana and hit the road.

So I ran the contest and my time wasn't all that bad considering the lack of sleep, the drinking and the lack of preparation last week - I believe it is very important for a jogger to have a basket full of excuses. Another one: it was scorchingly hot during the first 3 km and heat just kills me.

It's six o'clock p.m. and a perfect time to go to bed since I didn't get any real sleep yesterday and have to get up at quarter to six a.m. tomorrow to talk French all day. Salut!