I Must Have The Wrong Shoes

L goes out running this morning and I take the boys out. I tell them that we’re going for a walk, no balls, just a walk. They seem bemused by the concept and horrified at the thought that I might be serious.

The grass is now so long on the park that throwing a ball for them is pointless because they just lose it in the long grass. Yesterday I took the football instead, the resulting knee damage reminded me of one of the reasons I gave up doing this. Hence no balls at all today.

In the end they forget all about the lack of spherical objects when we discover a Children’s festival on the park. Something to which they can try and cause some disruption to. Perhaps as a belated form of protest Doggo heads straight for the nearest tree, the one with the picnickers under it, to vent his frustration in the usual three legs down, one leg up fashion. After that I keep them under a very close watch.

Everyone’s been singing the praises of Jessica Ennis who put in a fantastic performance, leading all the way through the Heptathlon at the Athletics World Championships in Berlin, to win the gold medal.



A word also though for Alistair Brownlee who on Saturday won his fourth ITU World Cup Triathlon race in a row, with apparent ease, and live on BBC TV too. In a sport where it is very hard for anyone to show that sort of domination that’s some achievement. What got me though was that he ran the 10k part of the race in 28:43. That’s after a 1500m swim and a 40km bike of course. Wow. I must have the wrong running shoes of something.