L is in work on Monday so she doesn’t get to share in the ‘excitement’ of Sainsbury’s and has to make do with the small and less salubrious Tesco near her work. Later cycling is so ferocious that something falls off my helmet during one of the drills while the cafe is closed so my Dad has to do make do with a massive chip cob at the Exeter.
Tuesday is Bonfire Night so we don’t do our planned run due to the expected barrage of explosions but the Lad still gets his tunnel treat at dog training.
We go out early to run on Wednesday morning instead. Afterwards there is a bit of a disagreement over the distance. L’s watch says 7.5k, mine says 8.3k. My watch is mad so hers is probably right but my distance is more impressive. Lunchtime sees me in the Brunswick with my ex-colleague. They have no steak and ale casseroles which is a major crisis but the replacement shepherd’s pies are pretty decent.
L is in Belper with her friends on Thursday. Two of them travel up from Derby by bus, the other being bus-phobic goes by car. We run again in the evening, or Wombling as L describes it, and do 7k. She’s my Madame Cholet and presumably I’m her Great Uncle Bulgaria. I’m not sure who the Lad is. It all makes you feel like some post-run passion but you can't as you've already indulged this morning and you’re too old to have it twice.
We do Alvaston Parkrun on Saturday and then there’s a home match with Derby drawing 1-1 with Plymouth.
Sunday is our Members Day Dog Show, an agility show for just our club members. The Lad gets plenty of eliminations but also plenty of tunnels. Which are the reason for the eliminations.
(Sunday 10th November)
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