Katie’s sights firmly fixed on London 2012

THE long, sticky days hang on two tent-pole training sessions at the moment. One in the morning. One in the evening.

Between gulps of warm tea, those sitting recently outside the Esplanade Hotel or on the strand in Bray, feet stretched in front of them towards the sunshine, may have noticed a busy, little shape buzzing up Bray Head. Up, up, up towards the large concrete cross; a one-woman Good Friday procession.

And when the sun didn’t shine, and the rain rolled out a welcome mat on the steep incline while no-one was there to notice the town’s most famous daughter? She ran up it anyway.