I felt a little out of sort this morning when I woke up, I put it down to clocks changing induced jet lag and not the few cans of beer that I drank last night. The cat looked a little confused too. I did my usual stumble down to the kitchen to make breakfast. There is nothing like a bacon omelette and a cup of tea to restore balance to the world.
I was expecting the journey to work to be the usual Monday morning struggle but for some reason it was a lot easier than I expected. It was a pleasant surprise for a Monday morning.
For a moment, there was a vague glimmer of a chance that the lunchtime meeting would be cancelled and I would be able to go swimming, but that hope was dashed at the last moment. The meeting was on. It wasn’t the most scintillating of meetings and it only lasted half of the scheduled hour. At the end, I felt as if I had been cheated out of my lunch break for no good reason.
I left at the earliest acceptable time in the hope of an easy journey home, It almost worked. Things went smoothly until the motorway signs signalled there was an obstruction on the slip road. I sat in a queue of traffic for what seemed like ages and watched as more aggressive drivers forced their way into the queue ahead of me. Some of them were willing to hold up the traffic in the next lane in their quest to jump the queue. What wa even more amusing was when an even more aggressive driver tried to pull in in front of them. They had all the reactions of the people who didn’t want to let them into the queue. It’s things like this that make sitting in traffic queues slightly less dull.
After a short pit stop to feed the cat and eat some cheese I headed out to the doctors for an assessment of progress on my foot. The consultation was very short. He pushed and pulled my foot about, asked me to walk up and down and asked me about the physio. The doctor seemed very skeptical about the physios use of the laser but was insistent that I should continue with the exercises. Finally, me said that in a couple of weeks I should try a short run. We had to define what he meant by short and easy as our ideas of these two concepts were not exactly aligned. Short in this case meant just over a kilometer and easy means almost walking. In fact, I’ll probably spend more time getting changed before and after than actually running. It may prove difficult to gather the motivation to do that.