3-2（在线收听）

2.

After texting half the night, into the wee hours, I groaned when that alarm rang at dawn. Time toget on Sir Keith’s boat. But I also felt grateful. A sailing race was the only way I’d be able to putdown my phone.

And I needed to put it down, just for a spell, to collect my wits.

To pace myself.

Sir Keith’s boat was called Invictus. Homage to the games, God love him. That day it had acrew of eleven, including one or two athletes who’d actually competed in the games. The five-hour race took us around the Needles, and into the teeth of a gale. The wind was so fierce, manyother boats dropped out of the race.

I’d sailed before, many times—I recalled one golden holiday, with Henners, trying to capsizeour little Laser boat for laughs—but never like this, on open sea, in conditions so squally. Thewaves were towering. I’d never feared death before, and now I found myself thinking: Pleasedon’t let me drown before my big date. Then another fear took hold. The fear of no onboard loo. Iheld it in for as long as I possibly could, until I had no choice. I swung my body over the side, intothe tossing sea…and still couldn’t pee, mainly thanks to stage fright. The whole crew looking.

Finally I went back to my post, sheepishly hung from the ropes, and peed my pants.

Wow, I thought, if Ms. Markle could see me now.

Our boat won our class, came in second overall. Hooray, I said, barely pausing to celebratewith Sir Keith and the crew. My only concern was jumping into that water, washing the pee off mytrousers, then racing back to London, where the bigger race, the ultimate race, was about to begin.