Today, probably against my better judgement with the Sundowner looming large this weekend, I go for a gentle lunchtime trot. L queries my definition of gentle. Actually my legs query it too, telling me now that it wasn’t as gentle as I thought and I can’t be more precise because I didn’t time it as my watch is flat again.
So to the pool and another very competitive fast lane, I manage 64 lengths in record time before heading home to chuck some balls and to try to burn some calories off our porky dog.
(Tuesday 2nd September)