On the park again with the boys, which is a shock to them, two days in row, and means they’ll sleep the rest of the day. Then a bit more bathroom work before we head over to Leamington to visit Son, deliver a food parcel and then go for lunch with him and his significant other. If that is indeed what she is.
We head to the gym on the way back, I feel I have to put in the effort and also achieve the monthly visit that will trigger my £50 cash back at the end of a year.
I suppose having asked me to download something from The Wanted, ‘purely for the gym of course’, L needs chance to use and abuse it. Perhaps for her own good I should have refused. Not that I’m really sure who The Wanted are, although I've heard rumours, but I wasn’t going to listen to it first to find out.
I do a mere 10k on the bike before turning to the dreadmill. After only around three quarters of a kilometre this already feels like a bad idea. Maybe it has something to do with the Lamb Shank followed by chocolate pudding that I had around an hour ago. I’m already feeling queasy before the silly device starts flashing up heart rate warnings and telling me to stop. It was reading 165bpm. So it doesn’t know what it’s talking about. Whatever happened to ‘HRmax = 220 - age’? I’m not 55 and I have told it this fact.
(Sunday 13th November)
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