Not good news on the knee front. I have trouble getting out of bed and putting my foot on the floor this morning. My knee does not want to bend, so it appears cycling to work may be out of the question. L tortures me by putting a bag of frozen peas on my knee.
Doggo might have to do the dog show all on his own tomorrow, not that me hobbling around will slow him down, speed isn't his thing anyway.
I take the car to work but I still haven't totally ruled out a gentle run/hobble to the pub tonight but L runs to work which seems to imply that the decision may have been taken out of my hands, as she won't be keen to run again tonight. It also enables her to ramp up her exercise units, knowing that I can't fight back. Crafty.
She does confess that she's still not made it up the evil set of steps that are just before she gets to work, there are 92 of them; she's counted them. I shouldn't mention steps because I'm having trouble with them myself this morning and there's only about 15 of them.
Which is why I'm slow replying to her email. It took me 12 minutes to reply, which isn't bad, and it only took that long because I was downstairs making a coffee and climbing those steps is slow progress. So the email must have gone walkabout in cyberspace because ten minutes later she was chasing me by text. She does worry about me.
I don’t get much sympathy from my work colleagues, not even my fellow 'runners'. Instead they offer to take me for a run. Ha ha, very funny. So getting loads of sympathy.
As our plans in the evening are dependent on how far I can hobble, I go to Sainsbury’s at lunchtime and do laps of the supermarket, to test my knee and therefore see how far I can walk tonight. I'm really looking for veggie pate. Just where do you file veggie pate? Clearly not with the other pates.
Our evening plans are in the end governed by the fact that it's raining. So we end up in the Plough again on the Supreme's. L had threatened not to take Doggo with us; he is a pain with his dislike of the pub dog. She said we could have rubbed an empty pork scratchings packet into his nose on our return, just to teach him a lesson. That would have been priceless but we were soft and took him anyway. Once at the pub, he again tries to take a chunk out of the pub dog.