If someone ten years ago had said to me, Helen, when you are (nearly) 28, you will spend your bank holiday Saturday sitting from 3pm until 7am in a damp field, cheering on your boyfriend whilst he completes a 12 hour mountain bike cross country race through the night. This will involve only having 2 hours sleep, and being very cold, and getting quite muddy, and being forced to navigate chemical toilets in the dark using a headtorch. Not only will you do this, but you will do it willingly, and even drive him and the ton of mud on his bike home at the end of it, and do the laundry.
Well, to be frank, I would not have believed them.
It’s strange, the things you do for love.
(But he came 6th out of 48, so it was all worth it.)