My memory isn't what it used to be, but today seems to have confirmed that my whole career has been a figment of my imagination. I can't believe anyone would be so petty and pedantic to go back through all photos of me on the internet and remove me. So the only option is that I dreamed it all. Look at all the evidence and thanks to the people who tweeted it to me. I have been living a lie. One cannot change history just by wishing.
Some people suggested that I might just be a character created by the Robot Voice. But I was here first. Wasn't I?
The Edinburgh trams finally started running today, after six years and going £200 million over budget and seemingly no one in the city actually wanting them. But by my estimates by lunchtime they had already clawed back over £35 of the £776million. And they can easily pay off the rest if they just rent out every carriage at nighttime for comedians to sleep in. They can undercut existing landlords and still make that much profit. And go into the black if they also hire them out as moving venues in the daytime. See a show and also cross a specific part of the city.
I didn't have time to think about it too much as I had to plough onwards with "I Killed Rasputin". It's still progressing slowly but I worked from 10am until 11.30pm on it and some green shoots are poking through the shit. Some people seem astonished that I am doing a play in August that is as yet unwritten, but I have a fairly clear June to get it up to speed and it's starting to occupy my brain and excite me. I just hope I can do the idea justice. I can't imagine that I will have a complete first draft by the end of Sunday, but I am still aiming for that. And the characters are starting to inhabit themselves and react to one another in a pleasing way. I don't yet know how it will end, but I have a fairly clear idea of the path it has to take to get to there. And I liked working late (I've been gigging so much that it's been difficult to do late night writing sessions). Even listening to people partying in a nearby garden didn't put me off. Saturday nights are for working, not for frivolity. I feel like a writer again. Albeit one not quite getting enough done to hit his deadlines. So a writer then.
I found time for a run and once again amazed myself with my newfound levels of fitness. I was running as Me1. Me2 had a half-hearted attempt to complete the full run in midweek but only managed a slow 3 miles. He felt he should be allowed another turn, but it was clearly Me1's go. And he set off at a pace that I thought was unsustainable, but which remained fairly consistent. I was using the Runkeeper app as well as my Forerunner watch. They both seemed to agree on distance run and I found the Runkeeper updates on pace quite useful. Annoyingly I'd been forced to start the app timer about a minute before the run and didn't stop it until a few seconds after I'd finished- I didn't want to have my phone out and smashable again- so it wasn't totally accurate (but the Forerunner time was bang on). Me 1 powered home in an incredible 54 minutes and eight seconds, three minutes forty better than his personal best and over five minutes quicker than Me2 has managed it. It's pretty much eight minute miles for six and three quarter miles. It's clear which Me is the more committed athlete. I think Me2 has to really break the 50 minute barrier now if he's going to salvage any pride. It's taking me (or us) about two thirds of the time it was taking to run the same distance in January. If I carry on like this then in 10 months it will take me mere seconds to cover the distance. I really didn't envisage getting this fit ever again, but I am keen to press onwards. On Friday I am meeting the personal trainer that Men's Health will be providing for me (along with my meals) for a six week attempt to get properly fit. I am glad I will be starting that from about 84kg rather than 96.
It's also 36 days since I had an alcoholic drink - I got through May as I had hoped, but see no reason to start again now.
So feeling vaguely positive about the physical and mental challenges ahead of me. Less than two months to Edinburgh. Whatever happens I will get to go on a tram. And if it's really bad, I can just take the tram to the airport and not come back again.