I get a membership renewal form emailed to me from the running club I joined last year. I delay rejoining and wait for the glut of offers from other clubs to arrive, who will have seen my results and will naturally be headhunting me... or perhaps not. Still no complaints with the current club. Apparently I keep getting mentions at club night, which I have yet to attend. I’ll have to sneak in and listen one night, in disguise.
Talking of running, I sign up for a nice treat for when I get back from Scotland, the Sleaford Half Marathon. It was moderately annoying last year but I loved the t-shirt and the post race massage, so why not. The annoying bit was two miles of cross country, which in the middle of what was otherwise a road race was a bit offbeat. Anyhow, it was obviously not just me who disapproved because they have revised the route and replaced the muddy bit with a stretch of ‘good quality farm track’ (their words and rest assured guys, I’ll be checking).
Seems I’ll be doing it on my own. L’s not swayed by the farm track and anyway says the muddy bit was her favourite bit. Each to their own.
With no squash tonight I can have a guilt free pub lunch which consists of something ‘game’ in a pie. I couldn’t tell you want. Might have been deer. Then I head to the leisure centre for a bit of a paddle, well thirty odd lengths. The still increasing winds blow me nicely dry on the way home and induce a bit of a ‘sideways moment’, all part of the fun, just not on Nottingham’s ring road.
L and Daughter are out at the cinema, so I take the dogs out to suffer in the wind as well.
(Thursday 3rd February)
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