My thighs have gone after yesterdays run. I’m not sure where they’ve gone but they’re not where they should be. Perhaps if I cycle, they’ll find themselves again.
In fact we are both on bike today, the born again cyclist and I. In fact L describes it as a ‘new sporting career in cycling'. Something to do with all cyclists having good thighs. I best get her those shorts then.
Tonight she joins me in the car for the trip over to dog training and riding behind us, across the back seat, is her bike. From dog class she cycles along the psychopath to her parents’ house in Mickleover and back for when I finish training. L’s Dad promises to have the band aids at the ready. I, of course, have much more faith in L’s acute cautiousness.
(Wednesday 10th July)