September

[Sweder]

Woke up to the pure joy of MLCMMan's Sydney Marathon classic. I'd planned to leave well alone for today, having run on three consecutive mornings, but how could I after reading that? Overcast skies, cool breeze, damp downs rustling her autumnal skirts ... this be running country. I donned the vibrams and hit the trails, dogs in tow.

3.4 miles later I arrived home lathered in sweat, a corpulent raspberry, bent double to leak last night's Guinness onto the pavement. A weekend of sporting action at the Theatre of Screams saw victory (my team won the club quiz night by 1.5 points, though I'm still contesting the loss of half a point for naming Paul Young as the singer of Toast. Apparently they had a goofy band name assigned to the single. Pah!) and two honourable draws. The men snatched a point with the last kick of the game against Cray Wanderers, teen sensation Max Howell firing high into the roof of the net to unleash pan-demonium amongst the Rook faithful: 2-2. Yesterday, the Rookettes took on lofty neighbours Brighton & Hove Albion in a tense affair. The match ended goal-less, but that doesn't tell the tale of the on-field drama. The girls have now played the three favourites in this league; Reading (won at home), Millwall (beat them in the cup, lost narrowly away) and now Brighton (honours even). Staying up is the priority, and they're looking good for that at least.

Trouble is I'm enjoying the social side a bit too much. After-match drinks with the teams yesterday was great fun, but I didn't need that third pint. Quiz night was a write off, I lost count of the number of pints of Harveys changing hands as the rounds unfolded. Hong Kong featured a series of late night/ early morning finishes and very little running. The sum of all this, despite a good effort since I got home, is I'm still in deficit. A spell of wagon riding looms in the not-too-distant future.