There's no denying it. Last Friday on the eve of conquering week one I was in a grumpy mood.
The problem with having a bad day at work is that it has a habit of slipping over into home life. By the time we had kitted up and parked up, I was in somewhat of a grumpy mood. It is a real skill learning to leave your problems of work "at the door" and it is something that even after all these years I am still trying to get right.
First up was the dog who managed to slip his lead getting out of the car. "God damn it, who let the dog out of the car...rant, rant, rant."
My wife stares at me and politely points out that it isn't going to be much fun if I am going to be "Mr Grumpy" all night.
"Oh we ARE in a good mood aren't we" she says. With a degree of sarcasm Oscar Wilde would have been proud of.
Next up is the debate of "do we walk the dog for a minute or so to see if he wants to go".
Grumbling to myself about what a stupid idea bringing the dog is, we decide to take the dog for a quick perambulation. After only 2 minutes we have a performance from the dog who manages to dump pretty much his entire body weight on the grass. It's the sort of dump an elephant would be proud of. "Oh my God" cries my daughter, "What has he been eating?"
"Well that looks like most of the cat's food, possibly some of the chicken feed and there's a good chance there's a Guinea Pig in there as well"
It's at times like this that I wish I has six foot arms and no sense of smell. Thankfully, the wife seems to have some of the latter and volunteers to clean up. I say volunteer, but as my eldest and I are having a gagging/coughing fit of comical proportions she is left with little choice.
It's amazing how much of a mood lifter a string of pooh jokes can be. By the time we are ready, I am feeling a lot happier. This time its looking good and there are no hold ups from the dog as we crack on. By the time we get to run 2, the pain starts to kick in. Not in the feet mind, this is the surplus bags of sugar that are bouncing up and down. It's like they want to be flung off but at the last minute they remember that they are an intrinsic part of my body and are well and truly attached.
It's back to biblical reference swearing again.
The dog is behaving himself this time and obediently runs alongside me. It's either that or he's worried I might collapse at any moment which given my weight and position wouldn't be good for him at all.
The shoes are working well with minimal pain in the feet area and we seem to be finding a pattern that is working.
As we work our way along the path I spot in the distance a familiar face. A small cocker spaniel is bouncing along and has spotted my four legged paramedic.
"Oh God, its Milo the testosterone ridden shag monster. Quick get him on his lead"
It's too late. The monster is upon us and I try to put myself before it and my dog. Just before I can shout at it I hear the owner.
"Archie.....Archie come here".
"Archie? oh what a wonderful dog you are Archie, I like you!"
I remind myself that not all Cocker Spaniels are the same, just most of them.
With the drama over we continue to the end of the run in quite high spirits looking forward to the Bank Holiday weekend ahead and the thought of WEEK 2!