Comping is DANGEROUS

Last summer, I took a tumble at Go Ape. Had I not won vouchers in the Cadbury’s Freddo comp, I wouldn’t have been there. So, really, I guess, this whole sorry saga starts with Freddo. It’s thanks to Freddo that I upset my pinkie, and it’s thanks to Freddo that random klaxons of pain started tearing though my ribs.

Freddo has a lot to answer for.

Things quietened down over the coming months, however, and by December the pain train was paying only irregular visits. That is, until we reached peak advent.

You see, looking down, aggravates the old war wound. And using your phone for a couple of thousand Instagram comps involves a lot of looking down.

Next week, I’m going to the physio.

Don’t mug yourself people: comping’s not for fair-weather players. It’s an extreme sport, NO LIE.

Take it easy.