As is commonly an issue, with so much time having passed since the last entry I am at a loss as to where to start. Do I comment on current issues, or exercise my memory to recall incidents from 4, 5, 6 weeks ago?
I'll, naturally, accommodate the easiest option.
Luca serves as a standard starting point. He can, at last, ride a bike unassisted. A distressingly abundant quantity of blood, sweat and tears have fallen (mainly from myself) to realise this task, but achievement is thus no matter how it is achieved.
He can also play football competently too, albeit demonstrating rather less commitment than is necessary. Who'd have thought he was my offspring? (Arf). He scored a lovely solo goal in his latest tournament, yet blotted his copybook with a distinct lack of effort and courage when supporting his teammates. Work in progress, as so many theoreticians enthusiastically plead.
Swimming is much the same, albeit with a marked improvement of late. We went swimming after school today (I'm on holiday this week), and after an atypically nervous start he began working those little arms and legs hurriedly, thrashing about like a sea lion unsuccessfully attempting escape from a ravenous Killer Whale. Pleasing, and an experience only negated by the vision of myself in the pools changing room mirrors, appearing rather more bony than I'd imagined in my swimming trunks.
Well, who generally looks at themselves semi naked?
Despite a severe lack of running these past couple of months (due to a ligament injury) my body is clearly ridding itself of fat faster than Roseanne Barr's ex husband.
But why? Possibly due to the new dietery regiment I've established here. Due to Luca's recent misbehaviour (more of that to follow) I've become sergeant-major-esquely strict with Luca's diet, cutting out chocolate and crisps and varying his (and our) day to day meals greatly in an attempt to physiologically affect his mood and behaviour in a positive fashion. Is it working? Yes, gradually.
I do need to readjust my own intake however. Especially with my first race since the Aberfeldy event fast approaching - this Sundays Fraserburgh Half Marathon. I managed my first serious training run only last Saturday, running a comparable distance over 6 minutes slower than I'm capable of. I'm confident this is due to a basic lack of reserves in my system. Too late to affect it now though, I can but eat sensibly for the next couple of days and hope I don't humiliate myself too greatly.
Carole's running now too. She surprisingly agreed to a 5 kilometre training run on Sunday, and did very well. Considering the time period between now and the last time she ran (last year) I was impressed with the consistency in her pace and determination to finish strongly too. She wants to keep it up (once/twice weekly) now, and I'll be really happy to support her through.
Naturally, of course, it's still secondary in her priorities to the search for a new horse. The insurance is still to be finalised (par for the course with such companies) but once resolved to search will gain momentum quickly. Personally, I hope an appropriate ex-racehorse becomes available (I'm very comfortable with the basic ethos behind such a rescue) but hopes are slim and we'll welcome whichever new "dobbin" eventually arrives.
However, I've just discovered to presence of a previously partially hidden bottle of spirits on the back of our sprits cupboard, so with lip-smacking certainty will prioritise this find and end today's entry rather more in advance of original intentions. Graciously, however, I've supplied to following images to prelude the imminent arrivederci:-
Halloween. Luca's first ever time trick'or'treating. A terrifying abundance, albeit reduced somewhat by my consummation of the Caramac. Who the heck knew they even still made these?
A cake I baked. As appetising in image as the many I've burnt before.
My blood covered, gnarly toes, immediately following a run. It's just as well I'm not into podophilia.
And Luca, asleep on the emu puppet he loves.
**Useless fact of the day - Rehab following knee surgery invariably takes 12 weeks, but progress throughout is entirely dependant in each individual case and not to be worried about**
