An Apple A Day

L reverts to WAG duties and accompanies us to a dog show in Worcester. MD opens the day with a shocker of a run and I wonder if we should head off home now to save further embarrassment.

Of course he’s paw perfect in the next one, a run that nets us 3^rd place and an apple shaped trophy. I guess we’re in cider country. His next run is almost as good but he fells a pole. Doggo is clear too.

We stay in with the football, well I do. L snoozes with her book on her lap.

(Sunday 15^th June)

Hit Me with Your Best Shot

Today I am the WAG as L attempts the Grimsthorpe Castle Sportive whilst I hold her coat and the collies. I did this one last year so it’s her turn really and I also wish to rest my injuries ahead of the mere 100 miles required by next week’s Great Nottinghamshire Bike Ride.

I’m not the only male WAG (or HAB, which I assume is the correct term), one lass is telling her other half that she’ll be a long time, a very very long time. Where have I heard that before? They’re all the same these girls.

She adds that she’s going to be that long that she’d go to the pub if she was he. I bet she wouldn’t actually but there you go mate she’s giving you carte blanche.

L is actually on the 40k route, a mere blast, and before long she’s texting to say she’s almost done. So the dogs I head to the finish to cheer her in.

We celebrate later in town with a couple of Tucks in the Falcon before me meet Daughter off the coach because bizarrely there is no late train back to Sheffield. She is town because of Stacee Jaxx. Yep we’re off to see the Arsenal, its Rock of Ages tonight.

Rock of Ages is, of course, several dozen US rock anthems from the 1980s strung together end to end in search of a plot. There are the songs you know from the likes of Journey, Whitesnake, Extreme, Bon Jovi, Pat Benatar, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts etc along with the ones you probably don't remember or have tried really hard to forget from the likes of Night Ranger, Styx, Warrant, Quarterflash and Asia. Back in the 80’s we’d been largely successfully in keeping these acts a fair sized ocean away from our shores but now here they all, Trojan horsing their way in thirty years on. 

The songs themselves flow in quick succession from a real live band up on stage and are generally performed well from a cast who are clearly well up for it. The music that is but then again... If the music is from a time we thought we’d forgot then so too are some of the sexual morals. It’s a long time since I've seen so many barely clothed breasts and bottoms up on a theatre stage and that’s just the men. The way some of the men are manhandling their near naked female co-stars makes me fear for the court cases in thirty years’ time when the moral high ground has shifted even further than it has now.

The tale itself, such that is, is about sweet Sherrie, a girl dreaming of movie stardom, who meets Drew, a boy dreaming of rock music stardom. They end up sweeping floors/serving drinks together at the downtrodden Bourbon Bar, what we’d call a venue on the ‘toilet circuit’. He has, naturally, been waiting for a girl like her and she ditto. Cue Foreigner duet. If they get really serious they’ll be branching out into REO Speedwagon next. OMG.

Then Stacee Jaxx turns up with his curiously named band Arsenal to play a farewell gig at the Bourdon and Sherrie’s head is turned. Consequently she spends the rest of the first act either wrapped around Jaxx or around a pole in her new job at the local strip joint.

There’s also a side story of a German geezer who wants to concrete over the whole strip (that’s American for street) but that isn’t going to happen because they built this city on rock and roll you know.

It’s nothing but a good time. A pleasant and enjoyable evening, naked flesh apart naturally and despite the shows unhealthy reliance on slightly obscure Twisted Sister songs. Afterwards I head home for the England v Italy game while L accompanies Daughter to her bus.

The match produces England’s best performance in years but still they lose, although they are very unlucky to do so.

(Saturday 14^th June)

Disaster On Friday The 13th

It’s Friday 13^th but I bike anyway. Naturally disaster strikes and a much older chap overtakes me as if I wasn’t there. Then again, that happens most Fridays and Tuesdays, Thursdays etc etc

L and I have swapped audiobooks. She is listening to my Red Sparrow book about a Russian honey trap spy. 

I’m reading her Gone Girl book about a girl who’s, well, gone. It’s fair to say that both books are annoying us. L bemoans her male author who deems a description of the lead female character jerking off with a hairbrush necessary. Funny that, I bemoan my female author who deems a description of the lead male character jerking off in the shower, notwithstanding without the use of a hairbrush, necessary.

(Friday 13^th June)

The World Cup Starts

I take the bus today to save the battered old legs for squash. Then I find out that my opponent is away in France and won’t be popping back for tonight’s game. So that’s another training opportunity missed although in this case another day off might be a good thing.

It’s also chance to watch the World Cup which starts today. Hosts Brazil open up against Croatia although I thought the holders were always supposed to open the tournament. The pre-match build up is dominated by clips of opening game shocks which are all the holders being defeated...

Brazil are far from convincing but get away with it aided by some very dubious refereeing.

The battle between BBC and ITV for supremacy also starts. The first contest is who has the worst theme music. That's a dead heat, they're both awful.

(Thursday 12^th June)

A Very Good Question

The recovery continues, today I’m back on the bike. My right knee is still stiff but I can still pedal fine with my good leg, so it’s not too bad.

MD looks wrecked when I get home later; L has given him a good kicking already. I guess at training tonight I’ll find out if he’s left it all out in the garden or not.

He actually trains really well and the trainer enquires why he hasn’t won out of Grade 3 yet? That’s a very good question. 

(Wednesday 11^th June)

A Return To Action

It’s very busy at the pool tonight as I finally make a return to action, ten days after the half a****. I’m sure when L went for a swim this morning she was cruising up and down an empty lane whereas tonight it’s horrifically busy.

The top four lanes (of six) are all full of quick swimmers and I end up down in lane four. God knows what the dawdlers thought of that, the ones that didn’t bail out for an early shower that is.

L is in the gym pumping iron and I’m warned not to blow kisses to anyone on the dreadmill, which you can see from the pool, as it won't be her. I don’t even get chance to check if there’s anyone worth blowing kisses to as I arrive late and with a Mocha date with L pencilled in for 6:30 I only have chance for 50 quick ones.

(Tuesday 10^th June)

A Torturous Journey

Dogging tonight may take place amidst thunder and lightning according to the forecast, interspersed with sunny spells. Sounds entertaining. I will pack a sun hat and some rubber soled wellies along with my new Sochi 2014 t-shirt which has finally arrived.

It was a torturous journey. It’s taken months. Then last week the shirts got seized at customs as they arrived from Moscow. Seized that is by people intent on making even more money out of us. The delivery cost from Russia had doubled the price of the shirts as it was. Now they were asking for £42 to release them from customs. This apparently is made up of search fees, admin charges and forward postage. I refused to pay and the company ‘contracted’ by customs instead said they’d email the Sochi Shop to see if they’d pay. Good luck with that I thought, response time there is about a month per email.

However the next day the package was mysteriously paid for and released to us, so I can ‘dog’ tonight in my new shirt.

(Monday 9^th June)

Swan Song

Today it’s the Ramathon, L’s 13.1 swan song. I’ve failed a late fitness test and won’t be competing. Actually it’s wasn’t that late, I’ve been hobbling all week. It was never looking likely.

So L sets off from Elvaston Castle for the first running of this event since 1996. It’s a hot morning, which won’t help the runners.

The route is very different to the old one and is centred around Elvaston, Shardlow, Ambaston but reaches almost to Alvaston. Hopefully the organisers intend to widen its reach as it becomes more established and take it into Derby itself.

Organisation is excellent, although perhaps a few more drinks stations might have helped in the heat. I could have done with one myself as I hobbled up to Ambaston Lane to cheer L though. The dogs were with me giving extra vocal support.

Then we hobbled back again and I went to the finish to see if I could pick up a race t-shirt. As I stood there, fully clothed, flashing my race number while the first few finishers lay gasping on the grass they were clearly impressed and asked how quickly I had ran. At this point I had to fess up and show off my limp. Got the t-shirt though.

The race t-shirt will be a bit too patriotic for most as it sports far too many references to Derby County. Sadly the many runners who have travelled from around the country (and from Nottingham) to be here won’t wear it become of that. So a marketing own goal there.

L isn’t as quick as she had hoped but has clearly left it all out on the road, as you should. Her post race treat, at her request, is Sunday Lunch at the New Inn in Shardlow which she then feels too faint to eat a lot of. The dogs and I assist.

She’s recovered by later though, after copious amounts of cheese on toast, and is knocking back the beer and wine as we head into Stapleford to the Horse and Jockey to celebrate the swan song.

(Sunday 8^th June)

Sun And Showers

There’s an interesting mix of sun and very heavy showers today at our dog show in Osmaston. Even before those showers it’s so wet underfoot that you can’t go rushing around. Which is probably a good job if you have a dodgy knee like me.

The morning brings a clear round from MD but due to a fair amount of faffing around the tunnel entry we miss out on the rosettes. Another run got us five faults for a felled pole but otherwise it was an excellent run considering the tough course, the tough (slippery) ground conditions and the handler with the dodgy knee. Everyone else obviously found it as tough because somehow that run got us a rosette for 4^th.

After a two hour downpour that spanned lunch L joins us after a tea and cakes trip to Ashbourne. She is in time to witness a decent run from MD save for another faff on a jumping section followed by another run that was a complete disaster where everything went wrong.

It was almost as bad for Doggo who got E’d in the Allsorts class for missing two jumps out. I took my eye off him and he took a short cut. So it was my fault really but back in the day mate you wouldn’t have done that.

Back home, we stay in and are AF ahead of tomorrow’s Ramathon.

(Saturday 7^th June)

The Dreaded Health Check

L has been called in for the dreaded health check by her GP, like the one I had at Christmas and got a rollicking for. It does appear though that the nurse didn’t shout at her and L probably remembered to put her rucksack down when they weighed her. Actually, L points out that she changed into a nice light summer dress especially. Not an option that was open to me. I just hope she’s left it on.

She’s off work again today, which upset the boys routine. MD soon got over his shock, had a good stretch and then skipped off for his ball. They also met me off the bus later and helped me hobble home.

Tonight’s special is Baked Elastic (Alaska) that L has cooked. That, wine and the summer dress should make for a very good night. 

(Friday 6^th June)