After a day down at Winchester catching up with some family we haven't seen in ages (me especially!) and a quiet bottle of red on Saturday, I woke up Sunday morning with good intentions, feeling pretty up for the run I had planned on doing.
Got suitably dressed, did a few stretches and headed out for a run along the canal at the back of ours, gradually getting into the rhythm of it.
After 15 minutes I decided to head back, turned around and started jogging back. Suddenly ouch! what's that? Oh, just cramp, I thought as a pain in my left calf quietly erupted. I slowed down and walked for a minute then carried on running. Did the pain go? did it f***! I ended up hobbling all the way home, limping like some old codger with shrapnel stuck in his side from the last war.
Think I may have strained the calf muscle, from not warming up properly - that'll teach me to go and exercise!
Continuing the 'old git' theme, our next door neighbour 'dragged' me along to this men-only club down the road on Sunday evening for a 'couple of ales'. Believe it or not, this place has been in existence for years, and only allows male members (pun intended!). Its not a large or fancy establishment, nor is it in any way *that* kind of men's club, but its got a full-size snooker table and the beer is about half the price of my nearest pub! And it serves proper beer, like Courage, Fullers etc, not yer usual poncey bottled rubbish!
Lastly, tomorrow I shall be collecting my "old man's" car, the Merc, thereby completing the trio of examples of how I'm turning into a mature man (at last ;-)
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