To give me energy for the day ahead, I have prepared my own take on the glucose sachets now favoured by endurance athletes and bin men with particularly long rounds. A far cry from the overpriced equivalents of the big brands, mine comprise of a spoonful of jam tightly bound in cling film. Whenever my performance starts to flag, I will just place one of the pellets – known colloquially as ‘jam bombs’ – into my mouth. As I bite down, the jam bomb – not to be confused with the French word jambon, meaning ‘ham’ – will detonate, its payload of thick fruit plasma oozing onto my tongue and into the
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