Having spent the whole of boxing day sitting in my pyjamas it’s not all that surprising that today I felt the need to both take some exercise and find a replacement for my now threadbare sleeping attire.
So this morning I togged myself up in my classiest luminous yellow running gear, slung the salomon pack on my back, synchronised 2 gps gadgets, plugged in the iPod and set off for a little jaunt along the river in search of M&S. I normally avoid the sales like the plague but I think I got something right today. I was able to jog past the queues of impatient cars honking at each other and once in the shop people just seemed to make way for me. Maybe I dazzled them with my top or perhaps they were running scared of my sweaty, muddy body. Either way I had a clear path to the pyjama section, grabbed my prize and was out in no time.
From the shop I ran on to the allotment where I was greeted by the remnants of a recent massacre. Someone or something had been using my plot as an operating theatre, bright red beads of flesh where sticking to my dibber and not far away from that lay a jolly fresh liver. Not pleasant, but what is worse is that I forgot all about it and at some point during my general pottering around on the plot, I managed to step on it and squish it into the sole of my shoe.
Still, I got over it and after a bit of digging I was off again, turning quite a productive day into a useful 6.8 km training run. That’s 6.8 garmin kilometres, the N82 and sports tracker came out with a very generous 8.2 km estimate. Mind you, I left the sports tracker function running on the phone while I went into the store and although the output appeared to suggest that the N82 was still holding a signal while I was wandering around it must have gone a touch haywire. There is no way I walked 1.4 km in search of those pyjamas!