Happy Celtman Year...
It's the morning of January 1st 2024, and I wake up with a headache... Hangover? Nope, I don't drink, and went to bed at 9pm. I should have been in work for my Ambulance Service day shift this morning, but instead I'm tucked up in bed, testing positive for Covid and feeling properly rough. My phone buzzes beside the bed: the 'do not disturb' setting has self-deactivated, and I have a few 'Happy New Year' messages. One of them says 'Happy Celtman Year': it's from Kate, who will be 50% of my support crew on June 15th, less than 6 months from now. LESS THAN 6 MONTHS FROM NOW. 167 Days until I'm standing in this image, in a field in the North West of Scotland wearing a wetsuit and a pink swim hat, psyching myself up for the biggest physical challenge of my life to date. I have a feeling of rising panic. Of 'Oh my god, how will I ever fit in all the training'. (Translated: 'How will I ever be good enough?') But I kn