All Dug Up

L gives me an early lift down to the train station. I’m catching the 6:52 down to London again and staying over again in the Holiday Inn at Swiss Cottage.

Last night there was another terror attack, this time on a mosque. Finsbury Park, where it was, is just two stops away on the tube from where I’m working. Just don’t tell L.

I arrive on site to find that they are digging drainage trenches on one of the weighbridges which will now be unusable for a week. I knew about this but wasn’t told it was going to take this long, so it’s going to be another frustrating day.

At least we get the other weighbridge up and working completely. There’s just not a lot I can do about the one they’ve dug up.

Back home L has an overnight guest, Daughter, who is looking for a cool spot as her flat is so warm in this unseasonably hot weather. The dogs, I’m sure, will recommend to her the slate floor in the hall for that very reason.

Meanwhile I’m on the Stella in the hotel. Sadly there’s not much choice in this hotel but I do get a proper (pale) beer later in the North Star.

(Monday 19^th June)

Cheap Coffee

It’s my first day on site working on an automated weighbridge at a recycling plant in Islington where they were supposed to have got all the equipment installed and working by this morning but they haven’t. So rather than installing my software, I spend my day helping out with that equipment and everyone is very quickly sick of me borrowing their phones.

It's sort of reassuring to know that it’s not the same at home without me. L says its lonely in the bedroom but it may be less due to my absence than to the fact that both the dogs opted to sleep downstairs last night. Although MD did give up on me eventually and joined L upstairs.

I had hoped to be down here just for one day but that clearly isn’t going to happen so on leaving site at the end of the day, I look for another hotel. I dip into an Italian restaurant and ask if I can grab a coffee and use their wifi. They agree, bring me a coffee and their access codes then charge me only £1.50 and this is in London! I consider stopping for a meal there but by now I’ve booked into the cheaper Holiday Inn at Swiss Cottage, so I head off there.

After eating in the hotel, I head out into the big city for a wander and a pint (a pale one obviously) at the North Star on Finchley Road. An odd pub that look recently renovated but still retain untastefully ripped furniture.

(Wednesday 7^th June)

Proving A Point To My Body

This morning a leisurely kick off for the Droitwich Half Marathon at 12 noon. It’s decidedly low key, a 350 limit and not really in Droitwich, as it barely skirts the outside.

The race HQ is at a rather bemused golf course, where there is no parking due to the weather. So the runners are bussed in from the town centre. This wasn't an option with dogs, so we parked roadside. As did many others but at least we parked well away from the race start on a side road and didn't block the buses or the run route, as others did.

The race route itself was very rural and very dull. Highlights were a thatched cottage, a ford that we skirted around and one country pub, which wasn’t open. Dull though is fine, as it gave me the chance to zone out and concentrate on my injuries or more specifically, not aggravating those injuries.

It was also mainly flat but with two quite steep downhills, which is odd, as I don't remember the ups, so they must have been slight or I must really have been zoned out.

My fitness ran out, as expected, at around 5 miles but the calves felt good, which was my main concern. The foam roller I purchased as chief masseur, in the absence of a real live one, did its job. Who needs some dinky sexy physioette with iron thumbs, not me...

The injured knee was sore, as expected, but nothing too spectacular, so that was good too. The blisters though, were something else. This was expected too. Forced into selecting long socks for calf compression, I have yet to find any that are double skinned for blister protection. Oh, and of course, everything else aches. As I say, general fitness ran out at around 5 miles but I slogged round and proved a point to my body.

Afterwards the organisers have a little laugh by placing the race t-shirts and the post run sandwiches upstairs. I grab a friendly looking female arm, L’s, to help me up the stairs.

She even drives me home, where we embark on a great night out. Nights out are always better after a bit of half marathon madness. It helps that they had decent ale in the Hand And Heart, Burton Bridge’s Stairway and something strong and dark from Ilkeston’s North Star Brewery.

Then we take in a decent Moroccan meal in the deserted, apart from for us, Marrakesh restaurant.

(Sunday 3^rd March)