running water

It's Saturday. I get out for a run. I try this before breakfast and a little hungover. Being ethically averse to all forms to strain this was radical departure from my moral code and physical abilities. But there I was puffing and chugging off down the usual paths when I realise I have to skip over a few puddles, hop over a few more then stop, slop right up to my ankles in the lake that used to be the park.

I batter on and on with a strange (still drunken?) logic propelling me out of curiosity to see how far I would get. It's like showering and running at the same time and the wet is ok after a while, I can't get any wetter and I'm not that cold - but soon my trainers fill and my clothing sags and I start to feel heavier. My laces untie with the drag from my wet soles and the runners I pass give me grim nods. We're a mad bunch, we really are. I felt about a third heavier with the water I was carrying along.

Later, much cleaner and drier I skip back to weegie once more for my sister Paula's big birthday bash. Ostensibly it's on Thu 12th, but who cares. Larissa has abandoned her baby twins in Bristol and is in town for a hen night - which we rescue her from, making six of us all out on the town (Lis, me, Paula, Jax,Dom and the youngest Pete). As evidenced in the pic of Dom and Paula. I also catch up Fara and bit and wander back through the old uni.. not long now till I'm back there now...

back blip as I've been an all round slacker