A North London hangover to start Saturday morning in South London.
OUCH.
I knew that was coming.
The only solution was to run and swim it off.
I cycled off through Brixton for the Brockwell Parkrun. I reckon I write the same thing every Saturday: NO personal best, just get round, Jase.
This was definitely the case for 9am this morning.
I’m not quite sure where the youthful (ish) high spirits first kicked in. It most certainly wasn’t the first climb of Cressingham Hill.
But even after five pints the night before, everything just felt right.
I was wearing my new running shoes. They are more or less some poncey sole, with the lightest of fabric stretched around my feet.
They felt FANTASTIC.
I hit 11’25” at the halfway point. I bounced up BMX Hill, and then actually made some ground on the second climb of Cressingham.
NO personal best, just get round, Jase.
But my final time of 22’13” was just four seconds off a Brockwell PB.
Bugger.
The lovely lido was simply SPECIAL.
Different people find different motivations to do whatever it is that they do.
But for me, the lido is simply LIFE.
I think I was still drunk from the night before to be honest.
Twelve lengths, and then the Invasion of the Rubber Boys took place. The Tri crowd are a friendly bunch, but I know my place.
Which meant a testing of the waters for the new poolside sauna.
Oh Lordy.
In true Brockwell fashion, it has been installed at precisely the wrong time of the year. Just as the summer swimming season approaches, the last thing we need is a blast of steam after a swim.
I went inside, reassured that I would find some familiar faces.
It was all a little odd to be honest. Just under a dozen Icicles, crammed into what resembles a traveller’s caravan, half-naked and pumping out steam - the traveller’s caravan, not the half-naked swimmers.
Conversations and catch ups then followed in the gents. I was delayed for my plans for the rest of the day, but what a delightful way in which to be delayed.
The Modern Movement was also back poolside for the weekend. I walked around and did the photo thing.
A brief cycle back to base, and I noticed that there was a Book-ish Gyms convention taking place outside Stockwell tube.
I see there's a Book-ish Gyms convention outside #Stockwell tube #whynotjointheLabourparty
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) April 30, 2016
The Nu Labour tribe were out in force. I gave them a friendly greeting…
A few domestics in the flat, and then I cycled off to The ICA. The Dennis Morris PiL exhibition comes to a close in a couple of week. I was keen not to miss this.
The ICA is ACE. The return of the day membership makes it accessible for all. The location for such a ‘challenging’ space being so close to The Establishment always fascinates me.
PiL exhibition at The ICA. ACE @richardgallon pic.twitter.com/oue8kJCDD1
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) April 30, 2016
The PiL exhibition was pitched just right. I have an attention span of no more than 15 minutes for most exhibitions. Morris did well to focus on the first two albums, and the design story behind them.
The clock was counting down, and so I cycled east, over to Liverpool Street, and then back to over there.
Oh dear.
Anna was out playing bloody golf by the time I got back.
Cheers, luv.
I had a quick look around the garden. It has exploded in green during my absence. It also stinks of cat shit.
I don’t think that the two are unrelated.
I caught the second half of the Arsenal Vs Norwich match, and then had work shifts in the early evening.
We made the mistake of watching Graffiti Bridge late in the evening. I’ve been resisting re-visiting this for the past week. I know that it is a BAD film.
Morris Day still raises a smile, mind.