"for the happy, the sad, I don't want to be, another page in your diary"

Friday 29 June 2018

Pass The Zimmer

L is on penicillin for a chest infection, hoping this will allow her to be able to breathe again soon. She does manage the free Clumber 10k today as do I, as organised by the National Trust, but she didn’t win. So the drugs can’t be that good.

Having chewed his way through most things, the Lad turns his attention to the stair gate and eats his way through that enabling access to upstairs. We resort to placing his cage in front of it, while threatening to put him back inside in it like we did when he first arrived.

Monday is Daughter's birthday and she's in Ibiza, courtesy of a work trip. She seems nervous about the whole trip and I advise L to tell her to have a drink to calm her nerves but apparently she’s already had three. Two cocktails for breakfast and a drink in the airport. Well, it is her birthday.

I cycle on Monday as Tuesday is race 1 of the Nottingham Grand Prix at my most un-favourite place, Rushcliffe Country Park. It sees me coming. I hate running on the grit at Rushcliffe and continually ask myself ‘why am I doing this?’. I run on the grass verge to avoid the grit, clip a hole (I think), slip and twist my ankle. I hobble for a bit but then abort the race as my ankle is quickly growing a huge appendage on one side.

I ask the St John’s Ambulance people for an ice pack but instead they grab hold of me, haul me into the ambulance and bandage me up. I am then embarrassingly wheeled in a wheelchair to the car park and sent to A&E. Not that I go. It’s only a sprain after all, I think.

The next day my foot is a nice shade of purple but the drive to work is fine and I’m managing stairs ok too. The more I hobble on it the better it gets. I even go to dog training but don’t manage to do any running around.

By Thursday it’s a nice shade of black and I can walk to Greggs for my lunch. Ta da. I took the car yesterday. I could be running by the weekend... all the same I’ve decided not to do race 2 of the series tonight at Holme Pierrepoint. The dogs and I support L instead.

After England defeated Panama on Sunday they qualified for the last 16 of the World Cup, so tonight’s game doesn’t really matter too much and both sides field reserve sides. I record it as we're at the run and watch it later. England lose 1-0.

The Lad has a busy week. On Wednesday he legs it to the park on his own and then on Thursday he breaks into the back bedroom and severs the phone line bringing down our internet. I have to re-cable the internet in the front bedroom. Meanwhile more Haltis arrive, we now have a stock of them to replace them as the Lad chews through them.

Son announces he engagement, now that was a shock.

By Friday, three of my toes have also gone black but I’m back on the bike. Well, it’s easier than walking.

Also on Friday, it’s Public Image Limited. Yes, Mr Lydon. He’s still going, albeit probably on a zimmer frame. So that'll be two of us.

(Friday 29th June) 

Friday 22 June 2018

One Last Trip To The Park

L and I don’t parkrun on Saturday although Daughter does. We rest up after the Hairy Helmet and all three of us do the Ripley 10k on Sunday, which goes well.

In the afternoon we take Doggo to Wollaton Park for one last time and belatedly scatter his ashes on his favourite stretch of grass. It’s been freaking me out having him watching me from the kitchen windowsill for the last three months.

In to the new work week and I manage three bike rides this week, which is better. While the World Cup is now in full flow and I skip dog training to watch England narrowly beat Tunisia in their opening game.

On Thursday the football fixtures come out for the new season and TV immediately start moving them around. Thursday is also tennis and on Friday I head over the Bingham for a night out with the old crowd of university.

The Deventio Brewery who sponsored last week’s Hairy Helmet make good on their beer tokens by inviting me to pick up some bottles from the brewery. Which of course I do.

(Friday 22nd June)