Day 24, Saturday January 24, 11.30am - And they're tightly packed, approaching Bechers Brook for the first time, and... and... and we have our first faller! I can't quite see who it is but someone's gone down!
Oh but no, wait, she's up, she's remounted, she's up and running again.
At least, that's what Sam says she will be doing. Sam came clean on Friday. After two weeks without a single crisp passing her lips - her New Year resolution - she crashed spectacularly to earth by devouring a box of Pringles over three days. "Well, two and a half, actually," she says, sheepishly.
Sam blames her husband. She knew the Pringles were in the cupboard, left over from Christmas, and, keen to remove the temptation, asked him to take them to work with him. Her husband forgot and the rest is history.
Sam, however, tells me that she will be getting back in the saddle on Monday.
Mind you, I remain to be convinced. First, she blames someone else. Then she gives herself a 48-hour window before trying again. 48 hours could mean a lot of salt-and-vinegars and cheese-and-onions. I am not sure this bodes well. Watch this space.
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