Early morning along the Trail and Mr Cormorant had been hung out to dry. He was proudly perched on the top of his Hythe pole, wings spread, bathing in the early morning Estuary Wilds rays.
What a life, pal.
I was a little more energetic at Colchester Park Run – but not much, mind.
The good folk of CPR are experimenting. The event is growing each week in popularity. Managing the safety of the runners requires a few changes.
We had a slight detour at the start of the route to try and avoid bottlenecks. I’m using this as the reason why I clocked a piss poor of just under 23 minutes.
I had a decent catch up with Bill from Colne Radio. Plans were made ahead of the Dulwich Hamlet INVASION to Brightlingsea Regent in the new season.
I followed Anna off around town with a Primarni run. I couldn’t be arsed to look at any of the menswear crap.
A kids Never Mind the Bollocks cheapo T-shirt did put a smile on my face.
Like punk never happened, etc.
We cycled on to the gym.
A Gym Bunny was squatting on the bench press machine that I wanted to use.
Share and share alike, fella.
I pressed on in the pool. The water was cloudy. It was pretty crappy tbh.
The return ride along the Trail saw a Dutch tourist tandem pass me in the opposite direction. We exchanged a Chapeau!
And then a fella wearing a Dulwich Paragon top approached.
I have absolutely no idea.
A brief croissant cooking refuel session back at base, and then out went the shout of:
To the canoes!
As ever, we misjudged the outgoing tide. We went with the flow all the way out to White House Beach.
It was hard work battling against the water heading towards the old town hard.
Some Jet Ski boys added to the challenge by cutting up the water.
There waere optimistic plan for a later afternoon bicycle ride. This never happened as I collapsed in the garden.
I had a little work on Saturday evening, and then another lively t20 evening watching the Notts match.
I’m tossing a coin over making the trip to The Oval tomorrow for the ‘rrey.