I decline the prospect of a morning run on Friday on the
grounds that mornings are getting darker and grimmer now as we hurtle towards winter. In fact it’s raining
quite heavily. Not that this stops L going for an outdoor swim
instead despite her Covid-like-but-not-very
Friday is my second day in the row on the bus due to not
being able to get any petrol and having to save what I have got for the weekend. Unfortunately
all the buses were packed due to them consistently having to miss one out due
to a shortage of drivers. Apparently they’ve all quit to retrain to be HGV
drivers in our new 'high wage' economy. What a mess we’re in.
L meanwhile is considering retraining as a postie. It would
suit her just great. She’d get fitter, get through more audiobooks and get to
spend afternoons with the dogs. Ok, scrub the last bit. That’s not really a benefit.
In the evening we have a Greg Gilbert Delays tribute night,
who died from his bowel cancer this week, and probably drink too much but it
was in a good cause.
On Saturday it’s Parkrun and I run with the Lad at Wollaton knocking
two minutes off last weeks’ time meaning I’m back down into the 24s.
The next day we have a dog show and I even manage to get petrol
on the way. The Lad though is hopeless and I’m tempted to retire him from
competing even though he’s not four yet. L says then at least I could concentrate
on my marathon training. Hmmm. Best not retire him just yet then.
His hopelessness isn’t helped by the fact we have three runs
on the bounce when I arrive. Which does not give me chance to acclimatise\calm
down The Lad while I also don’t get chance to walk the poor car bound MD or even get
myself some breakfast. Meanwhile the Lad gets progressively crazy though those first
Then finally we manage to have a break to do all those things. After managing to disperse some of the red mist, our last run is better but still an Elimination. We spend some time walking round the showground but we still leave just after lunch. It’s a nice short day.
(Saturday 2nd October)