Friday. At last. It has been a busy week, but that’s one week down. 

Run streak = 7 days

After a ridiculous meeting at school where we were told everything we already knew, and even if we didn’t already know it (which we did) we could have read it ourselves; day seven was a trip to the gym. 

35 min on the treadmill. 

I was joined at the gym by Skinny Lister, metaphorically of course (there is no way the double bass would fit on the treadmill), they have a new album out and although I’ve had it spinning a couple of times at home, having it on through the earphones at the gym meant I could really LISTEN to it. It is good. Well worth a listen. 

The gym session was followed by a trip to the pub, where I am currently writing this, whilst demolishing a bottle of wine and following it up with Jack Daniels. 

Tomorrow: Parkrun. 

I had every intention of getting out for tonight’s run on the mean streets of Bourne. I quite fancied the idea of being Rocky Balboa, the Italian stallion, pounding the Bourne ghetto. Pounding the dark, dangerous alleyways and no go areas of South Lincolnshire. 

The people’s champion. 

‘You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!’

I was going to, but it was a little bit windy and starting to drizzle with rain, so I went to the gym. 

For the last 5 weeks, every Wednesday, I’ve been taking advantage of the school facilities by grabbing a basketball and shooting some hoops in the sports hall. So today was easy – just had to incorporate a bit extra running.

All in all I ran 20 laps and scored 1000s of points. I felt like Michael Jordan…

Although it probably looked like this…

Five days in and the run streak stands at five. Lovely jubbly. 

Day 4 and continuing the theme of mixing it up I headed to the woods for a run. 

Now if you’ve clicked on this post hoping to hear about nudity in the woods, you should be ashamed. Or if you’re hoping to see me nude, you should be very ashamed.

When I say ‘semi-naked’ I actually meant no music and headphones. So I grabbed the dog hit the woods and ran. Just ran. No planned route. No planned pace. 40 mins of relaxed no pressure running. It felt good to hit the trails, they were pretty overgrown and I had to be on my toes to avoid thistles, brambles and the like. I did have my watch on to track the run, hence semi-naked, big loop of woods…

I found this wristband thingy that had a zip and place to put your key in. 

Together with my headband on to keep my hair under control, cue comedy image of the day, I looked like an 80s throwback…

Day 4 done.  

Day three done. 

One of the issues about running a lot is that it can tend to get a bit boring. So I’m attempting to mix it up over the course of the month. 

It was the gym today: 30 minute run on the treadmill; 2000m on the rower; and some cross-trainer to cool down. 

Job done.

To state the obvious: my hair is big. Throw in some sweaty exercise and it begins to look ridiculous…

Not sure what day four is going to bring…

Today was going to be one of those busy days when I was unsure as to when the day’s run was actually going to take place. In the end, it wasn’t. 

The planned visit to The British Library to take in their Punk Exhibition didn’t happen. We did get as far as actually sitting on the train waiting for it to leave the platform, before the driver announced that an earlier train had hit a cow, causing damage to train, tracks, and of course, the cow. At one point the driver seemed quite optimistic that we might start moving, only for our hopes to be dashed when he announced that a bus service would be provided at some stage, or better still, we would be better off finding another way. 

We abandoned our trip and headed into town for a bit of shopping. 

So it worked out that we were home around lunchtime leaving plenty of time for a run. 

The run itself was a gentle 50min jog with the dog around the outskirts of Bourne. Billy boy is getting on a bit; he’s not the whippersnapper he once was. Therefore a lot of the run was spent looking to see if he was keeping up with me and then waiting for him to catch up. Can you spot him?

When he does finally catch up he gives me this ridiculous gormless look…

We did, in the end, cover about 5 miles. But more importantly, day two is done. 

Cushty.