The Metaphorical Rolling Pin

I'm back on the bike today and a very good it is too, despite a bit of a headwind. L’s taken to regularly power walking down the canal to work, that’s down the canal bank obviously, not the canal itself. She says she's enjoying the power walks that much that she says she’s seriously considering giving up running for good. Hmmm. This doesn’t sound promising, as we’re both in the Long Eaton 5 on Sunday. Could just be a touch of nerves perhaps or a touch of injured thigh again.

When it comes to cycling home, I take the long way home through Kegworth for the first time this year. This includes the deadly cycle path past the A50. It's totally traffic free but the path is in a very bad state of repair with concrete blocks, to keep out travellers off, scattered liberally over it.

I forget to tell L my detour plans and I'm a little late back. She is practically tapping a metaphorical rolling pin on the table when we get home; Doggo is impatiently nudging his football. She can’t really have been annoyed because she is easily persuaded to help unknot my aching muscles.

In the evening, we walk to Beeston for the usual few beers, enabling Doggo to check his pmails, as I believe they're called, on the way.