Having run Friday morning, I gave Saturday morning's usual session a miss this week. Besides, I was attending my first ever stag do in the evening. I had been advised to practice talking about women and cars. I wasn't sure that was completely right for this particular group and the research was boring, so I had a drink and an afternoon nap like an old person instead.

I did spend some time researching Breakdown Cover, as I've just had a renewal notice from my current provider. They want to charge £137 for the year and the comparison sites are presenting some companies prepared to offer equivalent cover for under £50. I'm sure you get what you pay for, but I've tried reading a lot of the policy wording documents and, although I'm not stupid, it's all utterly meaningless. Could someone please just tell me who to go with and what level of cover to purchase if I want to be able to get home from anywhere in the UK and have a hire car if mine's seriously poorly, including home cover?

Anyway, this stag do business. I've heard quite appalling things and, not having been into Brighton for a night out for many, many years, much less a Saturday night, I was interested to see if it was all as bad as I've been led to believe. Well, I can only say I was very pleasantly surprised. We went to Due South (9 of us) for a 3 course meal. I can wholeheartedly recommend this as a meal option, if you don't mind paying a bit. It's worth every penny and, although I was on water all night I understand the wine list is very good too. The staff are patient, friendly and can put up with drunk old men being a bit difficult. I did notice a tendency among the clientele to pour their wine using the thumb-in-the-dimple-on-the-bottom-of-the-bottle-that-people-who-put-their-thumb-in-probably-know-the-name-for technique, as opposed to the more common grab-it-by-the-neck-and-tip-it-upside-down we were using. But, live and let live, I say. We fitted right in, with Ollie (the other youngster and son-of-the-bride) regaling us with edifying tales, such as and e.g. his friend used to DJ in a club in Brighton and Ollie used to come down and meet him and then the DJ would drive them both back up to London and on the way out of Brighton they would stop off at a place called Top Totty where the women weren't actually up to much but if you bought a lapdance you got a free pizza so why not?

Then it was on to The Cricketers on Black Lion Street for a few drinkettes (mineral water for me) and a civilised conversation. The Cricketers has perhaps the most cheerful bouncer ever and a really nice atmosphere, even at the end of what had clearly been a very long night for some.

The guys' taxi arrived at 12:30am to take them all back to Heathfield, and it was while walking back to the car that I began to see signs that Brighton's not entirely benign at 1am on a Saturday night (Sunday morning). There were hundreds of young people (and some old ones, ick) 'walking' as if their legs were on backwards and they were trying to avoid gaping holes in the pavement, only there were none. I felt all sort of grown up and superior.

I'm fairly sure I've scuppered any chance of being invited for a week of largeing it in (on?) Ibiza, but most of my friends are married already, anyway. Some of them have even found the time to get divorced as well.

I've digressed massively from the training-for-a-marathon raison d'etre of this blog. I do that, you know. I'm famous for it at work. Normal service will be resumed, I promise.

We have recorded the Girls Aloud concert at the O2 (I LOVE THEM), which I shall now watch while again trying to decipher this breakdown cover rubbish. Please comment with a suggestion ASAP if you have one and save me some work!