At lunchtime it’s the pub and I get another dark one in.
Again we get home to find the stair gate miraculously open, Doggo upstairs and MD downstairs with an expression that says 'Not me Guv'. How are they doing it?
I think the great bag relay has taken more out of L than she thought. She even saying she must learn to eat on the bike and she doesn't drink anything during these events either. Not that she says she’s ever ever ever doing another triathlon. I think that means she wants me to pre-register her for next year.
She contemplates finding a little corner in the gym to curl up and go to sleep in, either that or come home and make an early night of it. I'm more liking the sound of the latter.
I’m sure she mutters the words ‘Salford Tri’ under her breath during pillow talk and she’s not even had a glass of wine.
(Wednesday 15th June)