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Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Heroic Failure

L heads over to Leamington today to see her ‘baby boy’ on the occasion of his 21st birthday. She has to change trains in Derby, so I leave the car at work so that she can get off there on the way back, pick up the car and then, in her words, ‘rescue me from myself’. I’m running home. At least it'll save me upsetting some poor bus driver who doesn’t want some sweaty bloke on his bus.

The long drawn out Olympic ticket saga continues afresh today as road cycling tickets go on sale. Twice I request a ticket for the Time Trial Finish and twice, after ten minutes or so, the search comes back telling me its reserved tickets for me. Each time I select my credit card, type in the security code, tick the T&C box and pressed 'proceed' only to get told ‘ha ha fooled you, we haven’t really reserved any tickets for you’.

By the third search they'd all gone, of course. So I’m not very happy at all but this is what the Olympic spirit is all about, great success (rare ones) and heroic failure.

Apparently Mrs Bradley Wiggins had the same problems as me, so I’m in good company. Whilst a spokeswoman for the London 2012 organising committee brushed off yet another ticket debacle as ‘sheer volume of demand’ that caused people with tickets reserved to be returned to the back of a 20 minute queue, only to find that once they again reached the front the cupboard was bare.

At least it’s not quite so hot today when I start running but still I leave off the lycra that I usually wear under my shorts. Big mistake. I now have sore thighs where they rubbed together.

I had jokingly suggested to L that she checks the gutters as she drives along. Then I see her driving quite slowly past me in Borrowash, probably doing just that. Although if she really did want to ‘rescue me from myself’ she shouldn’t have stopped then and not at our prearranged meeting point four miles down the road.

We have arranged to meet in Wetherspoons car park in Stapleford, which sounds quite covert, or if they haven’t got a car park, in one of the dodgy side streets. Although she actually parks at Lidl, which is perhaps the same thing.

She’s had quite a day in Leamington. Son has not only confessed that he needs some smart clothes, and should trust a mother’s judgement in these matters but has said he wants to join a gym and get fit. Whatever is the world coming to?

(Tuesday 29th May)

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