Janathon #16 - Sunday bloody Sunday.

I knew today was going to be short on time. I knew after yesterday's wombling about I was going to be tired. I also knew there was jack-all chance of me fitting in a daylight run, and that the evening would probably be out as well, for reasons I shall explain later. So, the only reasonable (and I use that word advisedly) thing to do was to run early in the morning. Hmm.

There's one problem with that: Mornings are normally something that happen only to other people. Given the choice I hibernate as long as possible until daylight and a nagging alarm with no more 'Snooze' presses available drag me from my slumbers. Today would have to be the exception.

The run itself was singularly unexceptional: Left house just after 6am decidedly woozy and not really sure what I was thinking; Trotted gently up the Otley road to the Ramada hotel, 4km and about 30mins away; turned round and trotted back, trying to push a bit harder on the long flat bit by Bodington Hall and down to the ring road roundabout, then sprinted the last bit from there to my house. 8km, 56:12. Miles in the bag and feeling more awake. A quick shower, coffee, packed lunch put up and back out in the car for a not-more-or-less-but-differently satisfying bit of the day.

The rest of the day has been spent helping teach a group of people from Garforth Town FC, and it's associated enterprises, on an Emergency First Aid at Work course. The 8 students, myself, and Dave from Extreme Care have had a cracking day at the club. And I hope, for their sake, we made it entertaining enough to not just be a dry, humourless going-through-the-motions type of course. I know I've had fun, met some nice people, and enjoyed myself immensely. I think some of them may have been worried about my coffee intake, though.

Oh and the reason an evening run wasn't going to be a goer: Post course roast dinner courtesy of Dave's mum. Fantastically good, and a large enough protion size to render me immobile for the rest of the evening. I'm not complaining, though...

Comments

Unknown said…
'Sunday Bloody Sunday'. What a great song. It really encapsulates the frustration of a Sunday, doesn't it? You wake up in the morning, you've got to read all the Sunday papers, the kids are running round, you've got to mow the lawn, wash the car, and you think "Sunday, bloody Sunday!".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euhGPrgVZj0
Anonymous said…
that's very impressive for someone who doesn't sound like a morning person, 6am run on a Sunday, congratulations!

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