7,370 ­metres

Yesterday I was feeling sorry for myself. I was knackered after a week at work and had no energy left.

I found myself fatly sinking into the couch with a Guinness; some salted peanuts and shite telly on. C’mon, I thought, this isn’t me. So, I dragged myself out for my first run in forever. Kanandah Rd has a track running out like a ruler to Cockburn. It’s like running on a dusty treadmill.

I did not run far (7,370 metres according to my Garmin) and I was so slow. It was hot and as usual Winnie sounded like she might actually die. We both survived though. I feel better for it.

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Today Re and I saw a funky little pop-top caravan for sale. We are very tempted to buy it. A land yacht. But I think we’ve decided against it. We would probably need to upgrade the car and that’s a trap I don’t want to walk into.