Killing Time
I'm sitting at my desk at work, watching the clock. Everything I wanted to get done today is done – ticked off – complete. There is still an hour left. Before I fall back into the darkness that seems to have envoloped me in recent weeks, let's try and look at the positives.
I made it out of bed today. I had a shower, brushed my teeth, got dressed, went through the morning routine at home, cycled to work... I didn't have a shave. Yes, I look a bit like a scruffy caveman now.
I cooked dinner for everybody yesterday evening while my other half took the younger children out to both rugby and hockey. We had roast – with chicken, potatoes, carrots, and cauliflower. It was kind of basic, but tasted good. I somehow drew the washing up short-straw too – it's funny how that happens. As soon as you mention any sort of help to the children, they magic homework out of their arse instantaneaously.
I didn't go running last night. Miss 19 did – with her sister. I suggested they go together, otherwise the entire running escapade might founder completely. The unexpected result? Following their return, Miss 19 quietly tiptoed into the study with the biggest grin on her face – at about the 3 kilometre mark she realised she felt good – proof that training WORKS, and that she is now fitter than her little sister (who had thus far run circles around us all).
We're supposed to run for two lots of twenty minutes tomorrow night. I haven't told Miss 19 that the run will take her to well over five kilometres. Next week is the final run – 5K in one go.
My wonderful other half has already signed us up for a 5K “fun” run around town in a few weeks time – where all involved dress as Santa. I can't help grinning about the idea of dressing as Satan instead, and claiming I made a mistake reading the email.