Lasty's last stand

Hello,

Well Creaky is off in the wilds of Devon for the week. I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you that she turns 30 on Saturday. I’m sure she also won’t mind me saying that that makes her the oldest person in the entire universe, where as I at 29, am a vision of youthful nubility by comparison. There is light reaching us from the Andromeda Galaxy that isn’t as old as her.

Still on with the point. Running is boring the arse off me. There are still months and months of it to go and my schedule is looking at me with its eyebrows raised and suggesting I do 8 miles tonight. Here is the rub though:

I. Cannot. Be. Bothered.

Still, I suppose I don’t have much of a choice if I don’t want to die in Singapore.

In other news, Sarah did her Monkey run at the weekend, I couldn’t attend cause I was wildly hungover because a Monkey tipped a load of gin down my throat the night before.

Still onwards and upwards. Or at least not any more backwards and downwards. Siiggh