Don't Look A Gift Horse In The Mouth

L says that I looked blissfully asleep when she got up at the crack of dawn this morning for her romp and roll session with Doggo. How things have changed this week. It's usually me who gets up at the crack of dawn and she's the one who's still asleep. Mind you back to normal tomorrow, I have a dog show, so that'll be an early start. At least Doggo won't have a problem getting up early, as he's been practising all week.

I was actually surprisingly tired this morning after all the exercise that I got as part of my multiple-brick session. I even made a conscious decision NOT TO move the alarm to 5.30. Which as I had considered biking could have been disastrous, going out without a warm-up that is. Anyhow decided against it, I thought I’d rest my 40-year-old limbs for another few days. Also the gears on bike still need a spot of attention before I use it again. I must look at them over the weekend.

I have a meeting this morning and it goes far too well. It's all a bit worrying when nobody in the meeting disagrees with anything you say. Makes me feel they're hiding something. I wondered if anyone was actually listening and thought about using the 'throwing some random song titles into the mix' technique that Jeremy Clarkson was on about in his column the other week but I restrained myself.

It would all have been different however if the Blondie Bombshell The Business Anal-yst had been there. Then we really would be 'running the flag up the flagpole to see which way the wind was blowing' (ask Jeremy). Apparently she's been sidelined onto another project. Hurrah! Seems it wasn't just I who was trying to get rid of her. Hopefully someone's reprogramming her.

I get home and do a run on the park with Doggo. I consider being more careful about what I wear to run in, in case we end up not going out for a pint again. In the end I think 'what the hell' and go out in my Tri shorts again. What will be will be.

We do a reasonable run, skipping the pond because Doggo can be a particular pain going round there. So we just do the park and end up dodging the steam fair or whatever it is that has now sprung up in the middle of our route.

Get home. Doggo and I are still speaking, just.

L has been to the physio and apparently she has had her bottom marked with a cross so that the physio knows where to apply the treatment. Seems an odd idea to me. L bends over the bed to show me the spot but I can't see any crosses. Either the physio is having L on, or L's having me on. Perhaps L's just trying to get herself on the end of a good seeing to? Not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, I apply some pressure where I think this mythical cross should be but not with my fingers. Must be the magic shorts at work again.

(Note the use of a 'Maximo Park' song title above, Jeremy would be so proud of me)

We still get time to walk to the Victoria. Although I drink too much when we get there, considering I need to get up at around 5.30 but the beer is just too good and it's a long way to walk for just a couple. The best Fullers beer I've had for ages, a very nice IPA at 4.8%, I have two, it runs out before I can have a third. The Salem Porter 4.7% is good but not as good as it was at Langtry's on Tuesday and the Wold Top 4.6% is not bad either. Doggo gets his pre event scratchings.