A sunny weekend in mid-August; the mercury approaching the 30s; sitting prone, watching a succession of fit athletes sweat, as the Olympics reaches its conclusion.  If this is not the time to be drinking cider, I don’t know when is.

Adnams’ Wild Wave, a pale, medium-dry cider, 5% ABV.  A nice, crisp, fruity flavour, like biting into a fresh apple picked straight from the tree.  The taste of summer.

No more exertion required to enjoy it than an occasional flexing of the right bicep.

Meanwhile, Toby Roberts has just won Team GB a gold medal in boulder climbing, by hanging his young body off a high wall of GFRC, displaying more strength in his fingertips than I have in my entire frame.

It is hard not to compare and contrast our rival activities.  He seems pretty chuffed by his achievement; but then so do I by mine.  I take another sip.  Take a moment to kick back and watch the bubbles rise vertically to the surface of the clear liquid, a constant stream of poetic motion.

Katarina Johnson-Thompson has just completed the javelin and is now preparing for her last event in the Heptathlon: the 800 metres.  She will need a superlative run to be able to overhaul her rival, Nafissatou Thiam, from Belgium.  Seven events.  I am conscious that my same, repetitive exercise is slightly limited in comparison.  A strong, right bicep.  I might like to believe that it would give me some kind of advantage in the javelin, but the fact is I was always hopelessly inept at throwing the javelin, barely capable of propelling it its own length in front of me.

Watching the cider bubbles is becoming quite hypnotic; they don’t quite form a wild wave, but they have a lava lamp’s mesmeric quality. 

I order a fresh pint.  It feels quite heavy in my grip.  My wrist feels a little weak; my muscles slightly tender.  It is every athlete’s greatest fear: a sporting injury.

© Beery Sue

Beery Sue likes to keep fit.