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18 Rated!

Mmmmm!  What to write?  What to say?  Some revelations first.  Just to see if I can get the creative juices flowing?  In fact this is coming straight out of my head, as if you were in the room with me, uncensored.  It’s like I’m literally undressing in front of you.  Urghh, shudder to think.

The headline of ‘I was reliably informed…’ unfortunately, did not come from me.  I cannot take credit for this succinct prose, this snatch of sobriety and barbed wit.  Hate to admit it but it was provided free of charge from the mother of three children, of whom those same three children I am of course the father.  That blog post to date has received the most reads.  The ‘best’ blog post and I can’t take credit for it.  But then again, shhh, it happens.

So what else has occurred recently, I hear you ask (more of a murmur), does he really have to tell us?  Well, I don’t mind admitting, the other week was a little unpalatable. Work related, a few tasty issues still not managed to quite swallow yet, like a toffee stuck to the top of your mouth, you can’t quite get to with your tongue and so you try and produce more saliva to well, loosen it.  Those days or weeks at work, we all go through them, even the most successful people in life.  Had a brilliant week of running though.  Ran angry, ran fast and equally ran every opportunity I could.  Last week though did not run fast, did not run angry and did not run often.

Some great news though on the 10in10 front.  We were asked if we would like to choose our race numbers (any number between 1-20).  Number 6 was taken, Davey Green I’m amazed that you’ve picked that number for the third time.  You may well have an impish sense of humour but this must be some dastardly game you’re playing?  Altogether, impressive and daringly devilish.

My son plays for his local Saturday Boys football team and when he joined them he was saddled with the number 16.  Certainly wouldn’t have been my choice.  What about Stevie G’s number 8, or Kenny’s 7, even Ray Kennedy’s 5.  But then what’s in a number?  Well this time I asked for Théo’s number 16.  I asked for it, I got it.  Thank you.  The email came through from Aly at Brathay, you are ’16’.  In a twist of fate, you’ll never guess who I met on my way to the Oktoberfest last September?  The one and only Didi (Dietmar) Hamann.  Like a giddy little school boy I went to him to ask if he would sign the only thing worth anything in my possession.  A child’s library book, Born to Run by Michael Morpurgo.  So poor am I, the pen I asked Mr Hamann to sign the book with was also borrowed from one of the airline stewards.  The twist of fate, not only is my son quite a good runner, and why I thought it appropriate I purchased the book from the library and give this signed book to him on his birthday, but guess what number Didi used to wear for the Reds?  Yep, you got it in one.  If you’re looking for connections you are bound to find them, however significantly tenuous they may appear.

I hardly ever read the horoscopes, they are such a crock.  But, nevertheless, last week I indulged myself.  My ex might say I’m always indulging myself.  Narcissistic, not really, but if you insist, I’ll carry on talking about me.  Anyway this was the cutting from last week’s paper.

Suffice to say, I wasn’t sure whether I was coming or going last week, a bit like my star sign the ‘fishes’ going in opposite directions.  So I’ve decided to try and roll my sleeves up, let’s see where that gets us?

Meet Zlatan and Jose (not actual size).

Talking about fish and work, can you believe what the cheeky blighters at work organised for my Secret Santa?  Two goldfish, provided was a Certificate of Adoption for ‘Zlatan and Jose’.  Thank you!  The office, which now appears to have elements of ‘home’ in it, now has a large fish tank.  When you factor in one sweaty ‘manager’ on a fairly regular day to day basis, the professionalism of a work environment seems less ‘professional’ and more real, more friendly, more honest?  Not for every place of work especially when you are working with and for the public but in this day and age not every place of work can have all of the mod cons, especially in hospitality.  I can promise you it’s not the first time I’ve had to have a strip wash in a toilet cubicle.

Oh, by the way had a bloody lovely run when I was at my sister’s whilst celebrating Loic’s birthday.  Unfortunately, I’d drawn the short straw for myself (quick get the fiddles out) and ended up working a Saturday night (sleeping DM, this means I’m in charge of work after all the guests go to bed at which point I too can go to sleep), only problem was there were lots of people out that night and so sleep became a night interrupted by two 1 hour sessions of REMs.  No, that’s not a new form of exercise!  But, I was determined to go for a run and whilst Emma looked after the ‘Three’, I got changed and ran the sleep out of myself.  So clear by the coast, up to the Light House and then back along St Bees Beech.  During a run I talk to myself, especially if I don’t have music available, (thank fully on this occasion I did).  What do I say?  I only hope you would like to know…

By the way my mini exercise band arrived yesterday, my ass is going to be on fire soon…

Watch this space for the monster walk!

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