My friends will tell you that I rarely drink and that I will often drive so that I have an excuse which is plausible for those people who have already started drinking (if you follow the logic). Part of the reason for this relates to an intense dislike of hangovers and part to a preference for retaining my faculties in unpredictable environments.
This said I do really enjoy an occasional G&T (Blue Sapphire of course), a few glasses of wine over dinner with friends, or a glass of Hepworth’s Old if I’m cooking Bolognese sauce (which gets the rest of the bottle).
All of which bears no relation to my post this morning… I’d be under the table (rather than writing this blog) if I’d drunk eight shorts.
The unseasonably warm weather has continued and I couldn’t face the thought of wearing my longs again today… so the shorts made a reappearance. Not that I particularly wanted to run this morning and though Kim assures me is a normal Sunday sentiment, this was a different kind of reluctance.
Nevertheless, after imbibing a couple of quadspressos and a chapter of a good book, I duly turned up at the front door in my running gear. So clean was I when I returned to the front door 80 minutes later that Kim actually accused me of having sat the around the corner for the duration.
Good idea (for future reference) but not what happened. Instead I opted for a rare road run, choosing a boring out and back route which simply saved me the effort of thinking where to go next. Added to which I know roughly where the mile markers are, so it’s easy to gauge when to turn around.
I actually turned around at the 4 mile mark, scaring a few people by stripping off my base layer and putting just my t-short back on. Then, feeling slightly less hot on this December day, I retraced my steps, most of which looked a lot like this:
Overall, according to Strava, I completed 8.2 miles in 75 minutes, an average of 6.5mph. Now for another drink… maybe a tea without the G.