Facebook reminded me that ‘yours memories are special’ early on Saturday morning.
It then posted a pic of the mad cat as one of the first things that I saw to start the weekend.
The mad cat died almost two years ago.
Cheers, Facebook.
She did look stunningly beautiful, mind.
Oh how I miss the mad cat 🙁
Still.
I didn’t have time to ponder. The 9am start of Colchester Park Run was waiting.
I caught the train in with Anna. We both had our bicycles. My plan was to finally fix the flat on my tourer whilst in town. I let the train take the strain.
It was a damp, but decent Colchester Park Run.
My flitting and flirting lifestyle causes a little confusion though.
Back in the beauty of Brockwell and the laid back S Ldn lifestyle means that Park Run gets underway around 9:10, sometimes 9:15.
It’s a prompt 9am start in Sunny Colch.
I’ve gained around a minute on my previous fighting fit Park Run time in recent weeks.
It’s all about carrying a few extra pounds, innit.
I enjoyed Saturday morning. The official race time of 22’46” was no great surprise.
I wheeled the tourer off to the bicycle shop for a new inner to be fitted.
Yeah, yeah.
I know.
I can’t do it with my non-mechanical mind.
We did a bit of clothes shopping whilst waiting.
I bloody LOVE Primarni.
I picked up the tourer and then we popped into Firstsite.
Blimey. Busy old record fair at @firstsite. Open until 4pm #Colchester pic.twitter.com/4Cl5dD0EMk
— Colchester Chronicle (@ColchChronic) April 28, 2018
It’s rather lovely at @firstsite tbh. Slack Folk mini festival just starting #Colchester pic.twitter.com/IP6dJU5O6W
— Colchester Chronicle (@ColchChronic) April 28, 2018
It was buzzing in there with the record fair, Slack Folk mini festival and art.
Always art.
Anna started to touch up some bronze sculpture. She genuinely didn’t see the DO NOT TOUCH sign in front of her eyes; she genuinely didn’t hear the “DON’T TOUCH!” barking order from the gallery assistant.
It wasn’t her finest moment.
I was all set for a ride off to the gym for a swim.
I mounted the tourer and pssssst.
Arse.
It had chuffing punctured again.
Mr Bicycle Shop Man was very understanding. I don’t think that the tyre was checked for the source of the original puncture.
I had another hour to spare, and so another hour of clothes shopping.
There’s always been a white denim theme running through my fashion sense, Comrades.
It’s not stonewash.
Honest.
The tourer was collected for the second time in the morning. I had an early afternoon work shift and didn’t want to take my chances with a hat trick of punctures on route to the pool.
I sheepishly cycled back to base.
The temporary traffic lights up Boundary Road were an arse.
A standing start up a bloody steep climb is no good for my knackered knees.
Work was fine.
Swansea Vs Chelsea followed.
And then work shifts once again until late evening.