“And it’s not about you joggers who go round and round and round…”
JOGGERS!!! Who are you calling a JOGGER!!??
Actually it doesn’t bother me anymore. I used to take it as a slight….. when a young child’s mother calls out “mind the jogger, little Pete” or “ooo hang on Charlotte, jogger coming past” I used to imagine they were basically saying “oh mind out, here comes a sweaty, gasping, apology of an athlete who’s been watching a bit too much Mo Farah on that London Marathon thing, bless him…”
But actually, they’re just being polite and considerate in a shared public space as we all go about enjoying our precious leisure time.
Because that’s actually all that matters.
After a week of uncertainty about mine and/or Nicky’s (for blog newcomers, Nicky is my booootiful, funny, clever, inspirational and HOT lady wife) participation in the 2 Oceans Marathon, both due to administrative, er, malfunctions (see last BLOG POST) and due to Nicky’s injury and my own lack of running due to a rather debilitating chesty cough, we’d be happy to be jogging, bumbling, shuffling, hopping, skipping, sprinting or striding as long as we were out there.

Also, it’s been a week of health uncertainty for someone close to us resulting in a certain amount of perspective being applied to all the secondary priorities of life.
So, it was a great pleasure to head out at 5.30am the other morning to enjoy a bit of ‘jogging’ (or whatever anyone would care to call it).
Me breathing courtesy of Jakeman’s and Nicky taped up and nursed to the run by the excellent Sam at Pulse Therapy, we enjoyed a lovely chatty 10 miles around the bay.
And survived. (Check it out on STRAVA)
Additionally, we FINALLY had the CONFIRMATION EMAIL from 2 Oceans that our places in the event were secure. We simply need to get to the start line! And then do our damndest to get to the finish line too.

Anyway.
The trials and tribulations of being carers (we live with and care for Nicky’s father, Frank, with his deteriorating dementia) – our full time jobs pre-fatiguing us nicely for this role – continue unabated. Another television saga (regular readers will well know that this is far from the first!) unfolded this week. Plenty of contradictory food consumption and meal refusals too. Despite the respite of the occasional moment of comedy gold, the disease is really rather cruelly diminishing the man.
If it wasn’t so feckin’ cruel and painful to watch, it really would be like living in a soap opera.
So, after a week of even less sleep than normal (*cough* *cough*), our physical and emotional roller coaster of a life speeds on towards the next big dipper!
Here’s to a fun filled, injury free, pain free, cough free, restful, television fault free weekend for us all……