We leave the kids to deal with the gasman. Well they are ‘adults’ now and as everything to do with the boiler is on a service contract what can go wrong?
Things may not go wrong but they don't seem to go right either. Apparently the guy is coming back again tomorrow. No idea why but we still have no hot water. I would think he’s taking us for a ride but as it’s not actually costing us anything, I assume he's taking British Gas, for who he’s contracting, for a ride instead and charging them as many hours as he can.
Another run tonight, my final long one prior to Nottingham, which is now less than two weeks ago. As the latest smug email from the organisers joyfully informs me. ‘we hope all of your training has gone to plan, you're enjoying being on the cusp of tapering and are looking forward to race day as much as we are.’
Throughout tonight’s 17km, I feel permanently ‘on the cusp’ of something but whatever it was, it wasn’t something pleasant. The 17km felt like 117km. e.g. it was bloody hard work. You take a few days off and it all falls apart.
L’s training aims are a little less ambitious. She’s off for a ‘trot around the embankment’, her words. I like the sound of that.
As Daughter is out I cook up a steaming hot curry. Life’s little pleasures. When she’s up in Sheffield we’ll be able to do steaming hot every day.
(Tuesday 30th August)