A week of grafting

Monday was bad news day, received after much anxiety and phone and email watching. I was so out of sorts I didn’t run or climb the stairs and went home after work to sulk.

Somehow, to be told the feedback from the job interview was excellent, but that none of the candidates got the job because it went to a temp, didn’t seem adequate reward for the loss of a day’s holiday, loss of a significant amount of sleep, and a whole load of extra pressure and stress. Still, I don’t really want a new job in Hampshire even if it is a much better one than the one I have now, for more money plus a car. I should be in Yorkshire. Grrr, bother and humph!

I managed to do the stair reps on Tuesday, but it was freezing cold with a biting wind and I was still too tired and grumpy to run in the evening. I pulled myself together on Wednesday and was out every day playing catch up as best I could. This did have an impact on the weekend as I ran on Friday evening, didn’t arrive in Devon until 1:30 a.m. then couldn’t manage my early morning run before picking Sam up at 9.

My folks are away on holiday and Tom had other plans so it was just Sam and I this weekend. None of Mum’s lovely cooking!

Plan b for Saturday’s training was to take Sam for a coastal path walk from Lyme Regis to Seatown and back. Thankfully he agreed to this so I packed a picnic lunch, snacks and drinks, and promised him fish and chips by the sea from my favourite chippy in Lyme, or a bag of chips from the chippy to tide us over and Chinese takeaway later.

We had a great day out; it was cold and overcast but not windy and although there was a bit of a haze in the distance, the views were good. The section of coast we were covering is particularly beautiful, hilly, fairly remote and lovely and peaceful. We ate our lunch sitting on the pebble beach at Seatown, with our backs against rocks looking out to sea over fishermen at work.

We arrived at the chip shop just before 5pm but it was closed, there was no sign of life inside, and no notice saying if and when it would be open. There’s a fudge and ice cream shop opposite so I suggested ice creams as an alternative treat and sent Sam in to get them (mmm rum and raisin for me please) whilst I ran the car engine in an attempt to warm up. He came back looking rather miffed as the freezers had been emptied for cleaning, so no ice creams either! We headed home and finished the chocolate buttons on the way.

Later in the evening we ventured down to the Chinese restaurant to get our takeaway, but as I pulled up outside I could see the restaurant was dark and looking very closed. It was closed; there was a notice in the window announcing it wouldn’t be open until 10th March. Poor Sam was hungry and really looking forward to his dinner; words failed me! Fortunately he does like Indian food so although I hadn’t tried the local restaurant and didn’t know whether it’s any good we decided we’d risk it.

The food was tasty, just spicy enough to enjoy without being too hot and the meat was lean. Sam had a dish I wasn’t familiar with, which caused much amusement and a little concern when we arrived home and unpacked the food parcel; the hand written note on the lid read ‘chi tk shit’. It would appear that I’d given him chicken shit for dinner (the chef’s words not mine)!!!

We struggled to run this morning but did manage to complete our cliff top route to Branscombe. As I reached the brow of the hill at Branscombe and looked down, I was filled with a reassuring peace and could forgive the fact that my legs ached and didn’t want to go.