A Walkover?

After being a sweaty mess when I have arrived at work for the last two days in this scorching September we are having, well scorching few days anyhow, it's a bit cooler on the bike today. Thankfully.

I'm also feeling a bit zzzzzzzzzzzzzz after three bike days and three dogging days. As L says it’s a good job the rest of the week only includes a cycle home, tennis, a Friday training run, the usual Friday night, an inaugural Parkrun, a dog show and a football match to go to before I can chill out and catch up on the two bike tours that are on TV at the moment. I also need to cut the lawn on Saturday but yes, generally, it’s going to be a quiet weekend.

After taking Daughter to her interview L is now at work and in the car. She’s took the car to work? Blimey.

I survive the ride home and the final tennis game of the season which we start at 6:30 in order to make the most of the light. It ends in a 1-1 draw with my opponent refusing to play the decider because he’s playing so badly. Isn’t that called a walkover then? Bet his results spreadsheet doesn’t reflect that.

L walks the dogs over to meet us then we all head to the Victoria. Tonight's dark beer is Oldershaw's Grantham Porter, number 79 on my list.

(Thursday 8^th September)