Longsleeve lycra for the bicycle ride to the gym this morning. Even then I felt a little chilled.
I took the non-scenic route of around the back of the University. The Estuary Wilds downpour of the night before made the Trail a little too muddy for my liking.
We have reached onion harvesting time around these parts. I’m no expert, but the stench coming out of the now empty fields was a real nostril opener.
The gym was crap.
My timing was all wrong with the OAP Muscle Mary’s of NE Essex hogging the machines.
One particular chap actually fell asleep on the bench press I was waiting for.
wtf is wrong with place?
He was awoken from his fitness slumber by Nu Shooz and I Can’t Wait over the gym PA.
Nu Shoes were the future for a week or so back in 1986.
The swim was so so.
Adjusting to an indoor pool after a week away in S Ldn is always an arse.
I stopped off at the Coop to stock up on some essentials during the bicycle ride back to base.
Work was slow. Surrey’s ball-by-ball back at The Oval kept me company. Rocky Stoneman should already be packing his bags for the Ashes Tour.
I had my six month work appraisal mid-afternoon. These are usually carried out remotely via Skype.
I’m not going to comment on the content, except to say it’s bloody difficult not to wipe your nose with your sleeve whilst having a half hour video conversation with a senior work colleague.
Another email dropped about putting up the Christmas lights in the village.
I disappeared down the boozer to… book Christmas Day dinner.
I gave the garden a brief tidy up. It was the first autumnal appearance of the rake.
FORKING season will be upon us soon. Comrades.
A little more work, and a spin once again of the Jon C Butler album.
I say spin – I pressed a button on Spotify.
My legs were restless; not quite for a run, but certainly a walk.
I took in a brief Quayside circuit. I misjudged the fading Estuary Wilds light as I tried to snap away with my iPhone.
The Man Utd match was the evening entertainment.