The Morning Ritual

Yet another bike to work at breakneck speed after this time L puts me under a bit of time pressure. My legs feel good though, clearly the morning ritual is working.

L suggests we should do it twice a day. Absolutely. She even suggests tying me to the headboard so that she could do it for longer. Not so sure about that. These foam rollers can get a bit painful.

Daughter now seems well settled in Manchester and has a new French house mate. It’s quite a diverse household they have there. I wonder what instrument she plays? They already have two wind instrumentalists in the household, although Daughter won’t thank me for revealing she is one of those.

The first day of her Masters was accompanied by tea and cakes, which I suppose is a small repayment from the massive fees we’re paying them. After which she ends up in the pub with her tutor, I just hope he’s paying.

(Wednesday 17^th September)

You Can't Rely On Italy

You just can’t rely on the Italians. They lose to Costa Rica and England are out of the World Cup. It just won’t be the same not seeing them scrape through in the last game.

Daughter continues her UK interview tour, visiting Manchester today which is relevant because it is where she hopes to do her Masters degree.

I get home with instructions to shove L out the door to do a run before doing anything to tempt her not to. As if I would. I duly give the required shove before opening the bottles of Leffe in readiness for her return.

(Friday 20^th June)

43% Drop Out Rate?

My event for this Sunday, which I have left until the last minute to enter, in case another part of my body gives way, the Bosworth Duathlon is full. 100 places, all taken. The online entry asks me if I’d like to join the waiting list, along with the 42 other people already on it. I decline. I think the odds of 43% of the field dropping out by Sunday are slim. Then again... looking at the weather forecast... who knows but, considering injuries, it’s probably best to skip it.

It’s raining now, heavily. I'll need wellies if dogging is on tonight.

Just when we thought the Uni tours were over a Postgraduate Open Day appears at the University of Manchester, which appears to be top of Daughter’s list if she goes for a Masters. I ask L to pencil it lightly in her diary but get back the response that black marker pen has been used. She’s keen then, she does love a good Uni tour.

Wellies will not be required tonight, dogging has unsurprisingly been called off. It’s too wet, even in wellies.

L suggests I get a swim session in instead probably mainly so that she can scrounge a lift home, as it’s still chucking it down, but it’s actually a good idea. If they’re open.

They are and I spend the next half hour swimming ‘badly’ (open water style), meaning my arms get a good work out. It’s a good job tonight is not a beer night because I probably wouldn’t have been able to lift my pint.

(Monday 21st October)