Can’t believe it’s Friday already!!I have no idea where the week has gone, and I think that means I’m getting older.

I was at the physio on Monday, had a very good report on my knee. He thinks I should be fixed very quickly, based on the improvement he’s seen in a week. He told me I could go out for 7-8km now and see how things go. On Tuesday, Miss 8 was throwing a tantrum that would put a 2 year old to shame (hormones? already?), then my sister in law came over for a coffee. Love her dearly but was ready to scream. So, as you do, I grabbed my dog and headed out at dusk.

The first thing I noticed is that it’s very hard to pick up Guinness poo when it’s dark. The second thing I noticed was a very distinctive pop behind my right knee at around 4.5km. It was a bit sore, nothing major, but thinking a pop wasn’t really good, I walked home. I iced it and Voltaren gel’d it (is gel’d a verb?) before bed, and woke up feeling quite stiff and a bit uncomfortable. I decided I’d take it easy and avoid running and fitness classes until my next visit with Craig on Monday.

After a brisk walk and a stretch at club on Thursday night, it was feeling really good, so I think it maybe hopefully isn’t anything too major.  It feels very good right now, I feel I could probably go for a run, but that may well be the anaesthetic effects of a nice bottle of rose. Typical though, the sore bit that I went to the physio for is excellent, just when I do something else. Is it at all possible to run uninjured?

I have found something to torment the kidlets with in the car if they don’t behave. Demis Roussos. Yep, they’d rather hear me sing. I don’t mind a little Demis, and it only takes the mere threat of putting on the CD, and they stop their squabbling immediately.

Busy weekend again. I’m working in the morning, we’re hoping to take the dogs hiking in the afternoon, and Sunday morning is the club monthly 8k handicap run; I’ll be doing the timing. Sunday afternoon sees Miss 8 (nearly 9, she keeps reminding me) at a Guides function, and we may think about hiring the DVD Mamma Mia for Sunday night. What is it about young folk that makes them want to be older than they are? Wait til she’s my age, she’ll be hanging on to every year by the skin of her teeth (is that the right metaphor?)

Off to refill my glass and watch Taggart on the ABC.

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