L’s shopping list to me is (she says) long, expensive but healthy. Hash browns and curly fries are healthy? Who knew? And there’s something called FF on there but she can’t remember what that’s short for. We hope it's not vital and it sounds like some trendy brand of vodka. Then it comes to me, fish fingers!
It’s still cold and yesterday’s rain has now turned the pavements into ice rinks. I slither my way to the bus stop and only fall over once. For which I suppose I should have had a week off work and sued the council even though I’m fine.
It’s still windy too but I do my run. I manage 11k on what feels like an outdoor treadmill e.g. I didn’t seem to be moving much due to the wind.
Having lost one race last week to a moody Ciara, now we are faced with her handing the baton over to Dennis who is showing that ‘hell hath no fury like a’ man upstaged by a woman and it’s not looking very good for Sunday’s Stamford 30k at the moment. The trouble with races these days is you don't know whether you should be entering months in advance because they all seem to fill up almost instantly. Then when you do, they get cancelled.
An email pops into my inbox offering me tickets for the Ladies Final at Wimbledon through the ballot. They have finally moved into the last century with their ballot, scrapped the old paper form that you had to send in and now all you have had to do was click a box online. So I thought why not and now I have the offer of Ladies Final tickets for only £400. I think not and turn them down.
L’s sister gets a place in the Great North Run. L is gutted because she was hoping she’d be able to hand hers over to her sister but now she’ll have to run it as well.
On Wednesday L has PT and I have dogging. Then on Thursday I manage to cycle to work and without needing any lights which is an indication of how long it’s been since I last cycled.
(Thursday 13th February)