Young Musclebound Whippersnapper

I’ve promised L for the last ten years or so that if she finds herself a personal trainer to work with her in the gym I’d pay for it. Well now she’s finally done it and I’m more than happy to pick up the tab. She also said she didn’t want some young musclebound whippersnapper but that appears to be exactly what she has found.

This looks like it will replace her 1-to-1 tennis sessions and she goes to her last one on Friday before handing in her notice and feeling like the worst person ever.

Meanwhile I do my own gym session only without a young musclebound whippersnapper.

(Friday 15^th February)

Boil In The Bag Christmas

Christmas Day. The day you spend at home with family because everywhere else is shut, apart from the places you could have booked had you done so in February. Only kidding...

Except of course last year we did sort of buck the trend, didn’t cook anything, and went for a long longed for curry on Christmas Day. We had hoped that we’d cooked our last and were hoping for more of the same this year. Then out of the blue, Son tells us that he’s coming over for Christmas along with his fiancée. This is such a rarity and akin to a visit from royalty so clearly it has to be embraced and the red carpet rolled out.

 

Daughter will also be joining us and my parents too, although with my Mum not being very mobile the long held tradition of going down the pub on Christmas Day is shelved. It will be the first time in 33 years that I haven’t been but I’m not as gutted as my father who will have had an even longer run either with my brother or myself.

Of course, L and I could still go but she is giving me that ‘I’m never going to drink again after last night’ look and we also have Son to pick up from his hotel. He’s splashed out after strategically using the vouchers we bought him last Christmas.

Before all that it’s the Christmas Day parkrun at Forest Rec where a staggering 738 runners turn up which is a new record for the East Midlands. I run with the Lad, Daughter runs with MD and L runs with herself.

We had already exchange presents with me adding a tennis bag (for the budding tennis pro) and a laptop (to replace her antique ipad that’s annoying us both) to the two presents she’s already bought herself. There’s also my ongoing offer to fund a personal trainer.

She reciprocates with a new watch (a much longed for Swatch), new trainers for my marathon and pedals for my commuter bike. I always like to add some random bike part to my Christmas List but I do really need new pedals.

Most of my other presents are either alcoholic or chocolate, as they should be.

To almost get out of cooking we have ordered out but not quite through Just Eat. A company called ‘Cook’ delivered to us last week what one of my friends has described as a boil in the bag Christmas.

It’s not quite that easy and requires quite an intricate cooker relay stratagem but the food is ultimately very good. We have a mix of meat and non-meat dishes - Salmon Terrine, Crown of Turkey, Honey Roast Ham Joint, Mushroom Wellington, French Onion Tart and lots of vegetables. Some from Cook, some of our own. It all goes down very well.

My expensive chocolate filled crackers from Hotel Chocolat are less successful (although this just leaves more chocolate for me) but it’s hard to know what kind of crackers would be. Crackers are one of many strange Christmas anomalies that I don’t understand what they are for or where they came from.

Then its another old Christmas tradition, the crash in front of the TV and fall asleep thing. With both kids there it’s just like the old days especially with Son glued to an electronic device. I assume he’s playing a computer game but L assures me he’s being sociable and actually ready an e-book. Ah, ok...

(Tuesday 25^th December)

A Bit Of Lashing

On Tuesday I am dispatched by work to what turns out to be a torturous project meeting in Birmingham bookended by two torturous slow crawls through the traffic at either end. Which, of course, is always the way these days.

I am home in time to dogging however, our second batch in two days. Monday's ended with us meeting L from Derby where she’d been out on the lash. Well, on the lash-lite anyway.

Wednesday is my turn for a bit of lashing in Derby, as I head to the Alexandra and then the Brunswick after work. Again it’s a lite-ish session, L and I can do the heavy stuff together at the weekend.

L and Daughter meanwhile go for a zigzag with the boys. Strapping a dog to Daughter is fast becoming the only way to slow Daughter down on a run. She is getting quicker all the time and has now even enlisted a personal trainer.

I manage to bike on Thursday and L has her tennis in the evening. After which we hot foot it to the Beer Festival. As her tennis doesn’t finish until 9pm I pre-booked a taxi to get us there as quickly as possible. Naturally we didn’t expect a pre-booked taxi to turn up fifteen minutes late.

The beer festival this year is at the Ice Stadium while the Castle is renovated. They have received a lot of grief for this mainly because it’s indoors. Personally an outdoor festival in a drafty marquee in the middle of October was never a pulling point for me but each to their own.

This year I’m warm, there’s plenty of seating and lots of space. They have created a few outdoor areas to keep the doubters happy but there really was no need. Indoors is fine. I felt that the festival had almost come home, the old festivals used to be indoors at the Victoria Leisure Centre in Sneinton and I haven’t had such a good time at the beer festival since the last one of those. Long may it continue.

We have some great, and largely local, beer from Thornbridge, Lincoln Green, Lenton Lane, Lines, Navigation and Blue Monkey. Ah yes, Blue Monkey. They supply the beers of the night in Chimperial Stout at 8.5% and their birthday celebration beer Woody Bourbon at 6.7%

Shock news. On Friday I go to the gym after work.

(Friday 19^th October)

Glowing With Smug

Apparently I have competition. My occasional (when I don’t see him first), self-appointed, personal trainer is apparently now doing the half marathon on Sunday after previously announcing he was giving away his number. My spies saw him training on the dreadmill this morning and believe he has said he's aiming for two and a half hours. L says they all say that. Well, she normally says three hours.

I’m delighted for him and now we can run together. I’m aiming for two and a half hours as well. L promises to throw bottles at us from Triumph Road. She’s thoughtful like that.

She's also feeling very smug, practically glowing with smug having done a brick session. That must have involved a bike.

Tonight the much derided match forcibly relocated from Saturday. Subsequently attendance is about 5k down on what you would expect. Despite being 0-0 it’s a good close game that Derby would maybe have won had we had a manager who is a bit more prepared to take risks. He’s still new, so perhaps he’ll become more daring in time.

The joy of Monday’s is that our usual post match haunt, The Harrington in Elvaston doesn’t open. We visit Aston’s Malt Shovel and celebrate my Dad’s Birthday with a couple of drinks.

(Monday 21^st September)