Nature hates an imbalance. After an abstemious week, it seemed only right to use the weekend to redress matters.
At least I managed a sort of run first. 5.2 miles sounds good, but on such a sweltering day, my poor undernourished body really didn’t want to play the game, and who could blame it? While the rest of the village snoozed on their sun-loungers or watched the test match from a favourite armchair, I pointed my Hal Higdon baseball cap at the horizon and turned the ignition. I dribbled along for a mile or so, then walked in the shade for a while, then trotted some more. And so it went on. I did work up a sweat eventually, but I suspect that would have happened if I’d strolled all the way.
In the evening I succumbed to a trip to the pub for my regular weekly surgery, where I released a number of important statements on a range of topical issues. Then I sat in the garden, dealing with a bottle of decent South African Chardonnay and a large, hand-rolled cigar – one of the batch I’d bought from a Cuban farmer on midsummer’s day. I must finish off the Cuba entries soon.
And that’s the end of another month. It’s been an interesting one. I’ve managed 66 miles, which doesn’t break any records, but it compares with just 16 last month and 64 the month before (which included 26 on one day), so I’m happy with it. The good thing is the variety. I’ve been based in 3 different places, with plenty of opportunities for exploring.
