Gasping For Breath

I’m practically lying on the floor, gasping for breath, after three days in a row cycling to work. Well, two and a half days, I haven’t made it home yet. At which point I might need carrying in the door or at least carrying to MD’s football. Although I’m sure wherever I lay, he’ll bring it to me. He’s even started bringing it upstairs to us.

Still, I make it out for a little trot at lunch time. Just 3k to try out the busted Achilles. It twanged a bit at first but settled down. Might try and up it to 3.5k next week.

The ladies who lunch, L and her work colleagues, have been for a blow out at Pierre Victoire's. Not that it's called that any more, no seems to remember to use it's new name of Le Bistrot Pierre even though it changed about ten years ago. We probably won't be on a takeaway tonight. 

(Friday 17^th April)