The price of satisfaction
Tucked neatly into my aero position, I reached down for the bottle of nutrition I had prepared the night before and took a generous swig. Ugggh! I almost retched. My concoction was sweet and sticky and absolutely, totally foul. I forced back the urge to spew it straight back out and swallowed hard.
From dolphin dives to beached whales
AB2086, ZRH – LPA.
Currently suspended 37’178 ft above terra firma if the drop down screen in front of me is to be believed. The one which alternates every twenty seconds between a little plane hovering over a non-descript satellite image of what could be Europe, and incredibly precise flight information you would rather not know if like me you're not a happy flyer.
Learning to think like a pro
It could have been Angry Bird, The Champ, The Captain… maybe even an agressive Honey Badger or something as glamorous as Spirit… But no, I got saddled with a green vegetable. I have been training with Brett Sutton’s squad for the last few months; traditionally most of his athletes earn themselves a nickname at some point or other and I have been getting rather a lot of questions since I was recently dubbed the Little Cabbage.