It’s bloody windy on the bike this morning, constantly in my
face all the way. My legs have disowned me.
L comes back from physio requesting golf balls. I don’t
think we have any but I’m sure we could get hold of some, what with having a
golf club at the end of the road. Massage with a golf ball just sounds evil.
In contrast to her previous physio, this one has been banned
her from running. L's only got two half marathons, two 10Ks, a triathlon, the
Tour de Yorkshire and a 24-hour endurance race booked and paid for. Which,
obviously, she’ll now try and do without the physio noticing. Although I’m sure
they’ve dealt with people who have been trying to hide a heavier schedule than
that.
She is still undecided on Sheffield but says she won't run
tonight, won't do a Parkrun on Saturday and do I fancy a lie-in instead? Now
we're talking. Injuries do have their benefits.
I’d almost promised MD a parkrun but I’m sure he’d go with
the flow and I’m not sure a pre-Sheffield parkrun
would do me any good anyway. I’m uninjured at the moment although I intend to try
some sort of gentle run tomorrow which could change that.
Rather than Kettlebells, L walks MD up to squash while I
take Doggo in the car. Our first squash game since early January is a pleasant
surprise in that I win 3-2 and win quite easily.
(Thursday 7th April)
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