L throws in a comment by email towards the end of the afternoon along the lines of ‘I'm going home now to change into my Derby strip’. Now at one time in my life this would have excited me. The fact it no longer does is no reflection on L, it’s more of a reflection on the state of Derby County and perhaps on the lack of excitement in football in general these days. Now had she said she was going home to change into her triathlon strip, I’d have rushed home and headed her off at the door.
The reason for the strip is she’s decided to participate in the Cheryl Cole/Derby County fancy dress birthday run thingy after all. Mainly because the run is only a couple of miles from where my dog training is, so I can drop her off and pick her up again afterwards. When I drop her off I get chance to check out the bevy of Cheryls who are posing for a group photograph and what a manly bunch they all are.
Then it’s on to class, where I return the tyre, that MD now appears to have got the hang of, although we have yet to come face to face with one in the ring again, since our bad experience at Easter. I hope that no one notices it now smells overwhelming of Swarfega. I had to give it a bit of a scrub, after getting oil on it, as it has been stored next to my bike.
L seems pleased with her run. MD’s training also goes well, although Doggo gets a shorter walk than usual so that I can meet L and socialise briefly with a pint in my hand.