Friday: Busy day at work today trying to get things finalised before the start of the long Bank Holiday weekend. Ringing around and chasing for information that should've been with me a week or so ago is somewhat soul destroying so by the time I got home the last thing on my mind was running. However, I have now actually got to the point where I feel terribly guilty if I don't exercise; it must be the Catholic in me. Which is why 9pm found me donning my running gear and heading on out the door for a relaxing 5-miler (I love the fact that I have got to the stage where I can use the words 'relaxing' and '5-miler' in the same sentence).
Saturday: Quiet, relaxing day with no running as saving myself for the big run tomorrow. The Diamond Jubilee has passed us by somewhat as we don't have any plans to attend street parties, BBQs, concerts or any other kind of celebration for that matter. Bah humbug and all that.
Sunday: Up with the lark and sacrificed my much needed lie-in today for a run, how self-righteous do I feel? And it was raining to boot. Having met up with the other runners and donned a lent Camelbak off we set at a lovely, leisurely pace. I was
Monday: Really thought my legs would be protesting about yesterday's run today but, whilst my thighs were letting me know that something had happened to them, it was no worse than if I had done a shorter, faster run. Decided to give running a miss today (mostly due to tomorrow's Club run) I thought I ought to do something exercise related so did a 3-mile powerwalk with Rommel.
We also had a bit of a family get-together this afternoon and Other Half cooked up a storm on the BBQ. Why is it that you can't keep men away from cooking on a BBQ but have to employ all your feminine wiles to actually get them to cook dinner in the oven?