A cricket breakfast to start the weekend.
I settled down to watch a masterclass innings from Ben Stokes, and then the very next ball…
Whoops.
Ta for coming, etc.
Anna and I were on a tight turnaround ahead of the 9am start for Colchester Park Run. The kittens were doing their best to distract us.
Dotty [stop it] tried to drink some water from a jug.
“She’s not the brightest book on the bookshelf”
…commented Anna.
I’ve no idea what type of books Anna reads these days, but they clearly aren’t found in the comedy section.
A conversation then took place about my choice of top for Park Run. I confess that the Forest ’94 home strip has probably seen better days, but Anna’s suggestion of “binning it” was heresy.
I’ve partied, shagged and cried in that top, luv.
I do miss my Trent End days, Comrades.
There was the first frost of the season as we cycled along the Trail. It was nothing to get excited about. I’ve experienced frostier scenes when reading work emails.
Park Run was decent. There was a large crowd of runners meeting by the Castle Park Band Stand for the start. It was a slippery route, with tight corners still frosted over.
The pacemakers were out on the route in one minute intervals.
Mr 22 Minutes appeared to be running alongside Mr 21 Minutes.
I tried my best to keep up with the pair but slipped down the running order. It looked like I would be a Mr 24 Minute Man.
A sprint finish saw me through with an official race time of 21’58”.
Bloody happy with that.
It was only the third time that I have dipped below 22 minutes for a Park Run. I felt like tracking down Mr 22 Minute Man at the close and telling him that he had shot his load.
We decided to make the most of being in Sunny Colch early on a Saturday morning and headed off to firstsite.
I think that the current Vaucher exhibition is something very special. I hoped that my second visit would rub off some of my enthusiasm on Anna for her first viewing.
The Crass years are still what holds it all together for me. I loved the juxtaposition of reading some anarcho syndicalist sloganeering in the galleries, whilst over in the closed cafe space a bloody yoga session was taking place.
Banned from the Roxy. OK?
And once more @richardgallon: COURSE THEY FUCKING DO. Ace @firstsite pic.twitter.com/aBl52crYAB
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) November 19, 2016
I smirked slightly when the VisitColchester account favourited a firstsite pic that Comedy Jase had labelled firstshite.
What a wag.
We cycled back through the Hythe and on to the gym. Anna was keen to try a punch bag. I made a mental note never to provoke her into punching me.
Ouch.
Van Halen’s Jump was playing on the pointless poolside PA system as I rocked up in my Speedos.
Jumping head first into a 1m pool would be a little foolish.
We had the whole pool to ourselves. I decided to annoy Anna by swimming in the same lane as her.
She responded by pulling away and gaining two lengths on me as we both clocked up 40.
We arsed around in the sauna, which meant missing the Farmer’s Market.
I caught the second half of the Man Utd Vs Arsenal match, and then decided to watch something far more SEXIER instead.
“To Wivenhoe Town FC!”
…went the call.
I managed to miss two home goals in what was a genuinely thrilling 3-3 draw with Saffron Walden.
I had work shifts back at base starting at 5pm. The cheer for the Dragons equaliser went up just as I cycled out of Broad Lane.
Bugger.
Work was steady.
We also caught the Forest Vs Ipswich match.
TWO stars on the badge, etc.
Yep. Two stars on the badge #nffc
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) November 19, 2016
Work went all the way through until 11pm.
Pay to play.