One Of Those Resolution Things

It’s the New Year Bank Holiday but I am not one for those Resolution things so L gets slightly aggressive and puts me in an arm lock (sort of), forcing me to sign up online to her gym before she’ll grant me any passion this morning. Sneaky. Then before I can cancel the Direct Debit she marches me down there for my first session. 

The gym turns out to be a retro affair from circa 1970s where all the equipment is marked up in pounds and miles. Jacob Rees-Mogg would have wholeheartedly approved of such imperialism and you half expect to see the Mogg himself behind the counter but sadly not.

It goes alright and is an education as to how they did things in decades past e.g. the ellipticals and the exercise bikes have no power source. Which means you are the power source which I suppose is very environmentally friendly but means you can’t free wheel or rest on these as it promptly turns off. They do however have the mythical prone leg curl which Derby didn’t have. So that’s a bonus.

After that I head off to our Bank Holiday match. Then on Tuesday we’re back to work, having had the whole of Christmas off for the first time in decades.

It takes a couple of days and few hobbling walks with the Lad before my knees have recovered enough from their shock gym session for me to start considering going again. L’s sage advice is ‘lower the weights, keep it fairly gentle, build up slowly’. Which obviously I was doing anyway. So on Wednesday I give it another go.

By Thursday I have a splitting headache and a bit of a cough. Not exactly the classic symptoms but on Friday I do an LFT and it turns out that Covid has finally caught up with me. By Saturday it is clear that I’ve passed it on to L who also tests positive and has to miss Parkrun which I believe is a divorceable offence. Although it’s rather romantic to have Covid together and to have ‘his and hers’ matching positive tests. 

I had been invited out to my friend’s birthday in Derby, so it does get me out of that. It was pizza so not really my thing.

By Sunday I am pretty much back to normal but have to miss Derby’s 3^rd Round FA Cup game with Barnsley as I certainly don’t want to infect my Dad. Who is fine with missing it as he’s not feeling that great himself. Oh no. This means I may have infected him too.

(Sunday 8^th January)