L says that I didn't look good this morning. Sadly there
isn’t a mobility scooter available so I take the car into work. L swims, which
is admirable. I would have drowned if I’d try a swim this morning. To her the
pool is a great unknotter, my body goes the other way and cramps up.
At work, they are all overwhelmed by my latest bout of stupidity and hilariously impressed with the accompanying limp. Although they have seen it all before. L
keeps quiet at her work, where they regard walking to Debenhams at lunchtime as their Marathon
des Sables.
It’s been suggested that I should perhaps take up something
like knitting but, of course, it would have to be competitive and I’d probably still
injure myself doing it or stab the dog when it became tangled in the wool. I
think someone is speaking from experience there.
In the evening, roles are reversed. L has a girls’ night out
and a curry with others who run, so has much bragging to do. I hobble through
dog training amid pitiful glances, a little sympathy but certainly no comprehension.
(Monday 8th June)
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