My week in Ingerland

So, the wedding was hard. In parts. But also great fun in equal measures. I lost the plot in the church during the first hymn, but the thought of clomping out in the highest heels I possess in front of everyone mid-ceremony, helped me get my act together. I danced and drank my way through the rest of the day, with a few more tears in the evening. But overall I enjoyed it. I can only just remember getting home. That's always the sign of a good night. It was easier being there with family than it would have been if I'd been with friends. You don't feel like a gooseberry when you're with your family, even if they are in couples. I wore a new outfit, painted my nails, had my hair done, put on my killer heels and generally felt quite good about myself. Which makes a nice change. They say the first time doing things is the worst. I don't know about that but I'm pleased I survived and can tick it off the list.

On Friday I met Wellington Laura off a flight at Heathrow. It was like a surreal déjà vu of what we did back in March, except the roles had been reversed. It's absolutely awesome to see her again; another thing that has made my heart sing in recent days. (The other was being asked to be godmother for my friend Sally's little boy, William. Things like that make it all worthwhile). Over the past couple of days Laura and I have put the world to rights, analysed and over-analysed our innermost thoughts and feelings, caught up on the past couple of months, drank a bottle of Veuve (thanks GB!), bemoaned the fact that we live on opposite sides of the planet and started planning a very exciting girly holiday. It's been so good for me to have Laura here, even for a few short days.

Last night we went out with our friends Lynn and Tim for the most amazing meal I've had in a while. I've been a bit slated for lavishing praise on the food and drink on my trip and not finding things in this country worth posting about. Well, last night was more than worthy of a mention - we went to Dehesa in Soho. The food was incredible. We had grilled squid and chorizo salad, confit of rabbit wrapped in Parma ham, tuna carpaccio and courgette flowers stuffed with cheese and drizzled with honey. All washed down with some equally delicious prosecco. Then we moved on to the soft chocolate cake with Frangelico ice-cream (inspired) and the creamiest, loveliest buttermilk panna cotta with rhubarb. And port. And cheese. Then brandy. We didn't do things by halves. It was a lovely night - great food and excellent company - marred only slightly by England's shoddy performance. We didn't watch the game. It would have put us off our food. But the wonders of technology meant that we able to keep an eye on the action from the comfort of our table.

Three Peaks preparation is going well - this time in two weeks it'll be done and dusted. My half marathon training is also ticking along quite nicely. My mate Graeme is my slightly-scary-but-thankfully-based-in-Paris, coach. He kicks my arse if I don't go running three times a week. Being worried about getting my hair wet if it's raining isn't an excuse not to run in his book. But then, as I tell him, he doesn't have my hair to deal with... Yesterday I upped the game and did 6.16 miles. And it felt really good.