I'm back in training in a quite big way today. I bike over to the Boxing Day run on Darley Park, then do the three mile run attached to Doggo. He's really up for it and I don't hold him back much at the start, which is what I did last year. We do nought to sixty in milliseconds, with all four paws spinning, and storm round to a dog assisted 28th place which is about 20 places up on last year. Our time was 20 minutes something; I will be more precise when I've read the manual for the sports watch that L got me for Christmas, at the moment I don't know how to retrieve the split times. L runs too, a return to competition for her, of sorts.
I have a pint in the pub afterwards, with my father, who gets lost and turns up late for the event, as he is prone to doing. It’s a dilemma to decide which Greene King wrecked beer to have. Do I go for the former Nottinghamshire brew now trucked up from Suffolk or the watered down version of a former Oxfordshire brew now trucked up from Suffolk. I go for the later, the low alcohol version of Speckled Hen. Surprisingly it tastes good.
Then I continue my Irish Duathlon (Bike-Run-Bike) by cycling to my parents house from where we go to the match, this time by car. Derby do incredibly well to hold Liverpool, the first half is a bit like the Alamo, but we are only one down at half-time. Then we have a real go at them in the second half and equalise. Jay McEveley’s strike being all the sweeter because he is an Evertonian. Unfortunately we go down to ten men for the last fifteen minutes after a injury to Robert Earnshaw, who we can't replace because we’ve already used all our subs. Then we concede another last minute goal and lose 2-1.
In the evening my parents come over to us, and our goose’s goose is finally cooked.