Smothered In Dog Oil

It’s the morning of  the Nottingham ‘Piddly Little’ Tri and we’re at Parkrun. Obsessive? Well, L's not actually getting a crafty Parkrun in first, she scanning bar codes for them. Her event doesn't start until a leisurely 12.30.

Unlike the rather wet outlook for my race tomorrow, today is glorious sunshine for hers. We arrive and I head off for my briefing at 11am whilst she gets herself ready for her actual event. Their briefing will be on the start line.

L is probably still proclaiming that she can’t see further than next weekend’s Hellathon as awaits the start covered in her race tattoos. They’re very fetching, she can keep those on for later.

The event is also known as the Sprint Distance which is a 750m swim, 20k bike and a 5k run. It’s also a qualifier for ITU Sprint Distance World Championships and ETU Sprint Distance European Championships. Gulp.

The dogs and I put on our 'we are supporting...' stickers and settle in to watch.

My girl has a solid swim and a great run. It’s on the run that she’s rapidly reeling people in and even the commentator comments on that. We just need to work a tad on the bike leg... but that's not going to be an easy subject to broach to a cycle-phobic.

I grab a pre-event massage and a young girlie lathers me up with dog oil. 

Slightly appalled at what she smothering me in I double check that it is not (a) a product designed for using on dogs nor (b) a product made from dogs. She assures me it’s neither and it’s from Yorkshire, which explains everything. Then she digs her thumb in my calf to shut me up.

Actually she’s very gentle, which may or may not be what I need but it’s not what I’m used to with Dancing Boy, my usual torturer. When she’s finished with my calves she also asks if there’s anything else I’d like massaging as we have five minutes. All this customer service for a tenner but I decline her kind offer. I mean what’s five minutes.

I am sharing the massage tent with a chap with a very swollen ankle who is getting it professionally taped up. Apparently he injured himself at one of those dangerous parkrun things but he’s hopeful of completing the swim and the bike, then ‘seeing how it goes’ on the run. Badly I would guess.

L then leads me astray and takes me for two very welcome and calming pints in Stapleford before pasta back home.

(Saturday 30^th May)