All Systems Go

No bloody traffic this morning, I was well early. There really is no predicting it. It will be hell tonight when I’m in a rush to get to parents evening at the college.

Having the car at least means we make the pub at lunch time.

At parents evening, Daughter gets a glowing report, well for the times when she’s not been on her mobile during class that is. Which hopefully she’s not now doing after we pulled her up on this a few weeks ago and told her to turn it off during lesson time. She did pass my not so sneaky test this morning when I had emailed her phone and she didn’t reply until the lunch break. Of course she could have just been being a bit smart, delaying to give the impression it was off but I’m sure she’s not that devious.

L still looks jealous that she’s not on Daughter’s literature course. She could be, she already owns most of the books on the course anyway, Pride & Prejudice, Death of a Salesman, Kite Runner and King Lear.

Daughter’s report is not quite as sickeningly glowing as the one we get from one of Son’s tutors about him but we won’t go there. We’re pleased really, of course, but we don’t want him getting big headed. No one likes a smart arse.

Afterwards I finally go for that long delayed run and L joins me. Which is nice, it’s not that often we run together these days. It goes well. There’s no reaction from my calf, so it’s all systems go for Saturday. The only question now is how hard do I run the race... I was 31st last year in a very good time, quite a lot to live up to.

Massage Techniques

I decide to run into work and it goes well, really enjoyable. That is until the last half a kilometre when my calf went and I had to hobble the rest of the way. This is really worrying as this is the first time something has ‘gone’ without being provoked e.g. putting a foot down a pot hole, slipping on something, falling off a kerb... I was just running gently on totally flat ground. What’s worse is that I have squash tonight. I just hope it loosens up during the day.

L offers to help; she says she’s learnt some new massage techniques at the gym... the gym? The mind boggles as to what they get up to in there. Good job I’m the trusting sort. She offers to try them out on my calf tonight. Only on my calf? That’s disappointing but apparently it hurts that much, she guarantees me that my calf will be the only place I’ll want it.

Daughter was supposed to be at the Bloc Party gig last night but I think she went boxing instead, that is judging by the right old bruise on her cheek. She reckons she got trampled underfoot in the mosh several times. Several times? Must have been enjoyable then.

This reminds me of the rules of mosh pit survival that we developed in our student years. Vital tips such as always remove your watch and put it in your pocket unless you like seeing it flying across the floor. Also any neck chains, should someone try and hang you with them and ear rings, a mate of mine once almost lost half his ear. We had no advice for nose piercing as they were rare in those days but I guess the same advice exists, just ask Daughter. Luckily we didn’t have mobile phones to protect, whereas these days I assume you need to update your Facebook status to ‘trampled’ in order to rouse a search party to find you. Another tip is to always wear shoes with laces and double lace them, less you lose one or both of them. Someone is usually good enough to throw them on stage for you. Ideally wear either good stout boots so that no one can crush your toes (failing that at least you can kick them back) or trainers with a good bounce so you can keep on the move and out of the way of trouble. Certainly don’t wear any clothes you value because you’re sure to get them ripped, I’ve had many a rare band t-shirt shredded and for girls nothing skimpy unless of course you’re in there for the grope.

I’ve been trying to jog up and down the stairs at work to loosen my calf, it isn’t working. I get the bus home and try jogging bits of the way from the bus stop. I can only manage short bursts, not good but probably good enough for squash. As I resort to walking, a girl jogs past me, and it really was only a jog, but try as I might I can’t catch up with her again. How embarrassing.

My squash opponent has been on holiday for two weeks and ill for three. Good idea that, go on holiday when you’ll ill. So hopefully he won’t be running around much either. The more ill he is, the better really. I’ll take any means of getting a win.

It goes ok. I hop around the squash court, only miss around half a dozen balls because of the limp and even win a game. Can hardly walk now though.

L is offering red hot Caribbean at home and recommends drinking plenty of fluids first. So I make sure I have a pint after our game. I assume by Caribbean she means food and it’s not the name of her new massage technique. Either way it sounds like it’s going to be quite a night. Then she meets me at the door with a rolling pin and I start having second thoughts.

The rolling pin turns out to be an integral part of the new massage technique, well the only part really. Just what do they teach them in the gym? As ever she does pain so well. Just before I black out, I have a moment of clarity and realise what the plan is. Something to do with getting me begging to take her to see a certain Michael Holbrook Penniman Jnr (otherwise known as M*k* to you and me) by the time she's finished with me.

River Trent Flu?

My body still aches this morning but now it feels more like a flu sort of ache rather than a monkey bar induced one. I leave for a work a little earlier just in case it takes me a longer to disembark my aching body from the car at the other end.

Whether this is River Trent Flu, cyanide poisoning or just a common or garden waterborne disease, you know like Dysentery, Cholera, E Coli... It may, of cause just be a dose of Son/Daughter flu that’s been passed down the family through the usual channels. Our house currently echoes to the musical sound of what appears to be synchronised coughing.

Even our MD, that’s my MD at work not MD the dog, looks healthier than me. Although he confesses to being not quite so mobile yesterday.

At lunchtime L sends me shopping for wash powder; I think my new 'white' t-shirt has used it all up. Whilst I’m there I have a look to see if they have anything that claims to ‘re-whiten things that used to be white’, they don’t, unless it’s called emulsion.

After dog class I finally win a three day long battle with our new router to get the damn thing set-up and working. Result.