Not Unsurprising News

Today I get the not unsurprising news that my outdoor Monday dog training is now suspended until February at the earliest. It’s actually a relief because now I can plan things in advance for Mondays. Luckily I’d already anticipated this Monday's cancellation and I'm all set to ruin my day in the gym after work.

L is out tonight, having a Christmas Curry with friends in Borrowash. We rendezvous later in Beeston Tesco so that she can top up her storage box collection which may soon be rivalling the size of her book collection. This means once again running the gauntlet of ‘Now That’s What I Call Christmas’ on their PA system which surely everyone is already sick of, despite is only being the 4^th of December. I’ve already been through it once today at Sainsbury’s.

Back home I sit sharing my cheese and pate with Doggo, slipping him chunks of bread covered in the stuff in an attempt to fatten him up. That is until MD rumbled what was going on and I had to stop. 

(Monday 4^th December)

Capitulation

I jump out of bed almost as soon as the dog alarm goes. Well,  perhaps not quite that early, and head off for an early morning swim at Harvey Hadden. This is me in training for the Leeds Triathlon. Failing to prepare, is preparing to fail as they say... and/or drown.

Unfortunately this is how early you need to get up to find a 50m session. The swimming club have six of the eight lanes and us plebs the other two. It was busy with the fast lane being hellishly fast and the slow lane hellishly slow. I manage 1.2k but the race distance is 1.5k, shoot me now as some would say.

L is off work today but it appears she wasn’t allowed a lie-in. The boys hounded her until she capitulated and went on the park. Never mind, lie-ins are for sharing anyway. She then heads off to Derby to meet her folks enabling the dogs to get back to what they wouldn’t let her have, an extended nap.

After work I do 20k on the Watt Bikes at the Velodrome. I am then diverted to Beeston, where there is a damsel in distress under the weight of all the storage boxes she’s bought from Tesco. She’s sat in the Star, propositioning me with something dark and offering to come home with me. So not a bad deal. The dark is Welbeck Abbey’s Portland Black.

(Friday 20^th May)