A Guinness hangover heavy Brockwell Park Run to start the weekend.
Four pints of the black stuff Vs a bowl of pasta is an easy decision to make.
I chose BOOZE.
I was 22 seconds off a PB on Saturday morning.
I think that the don't give a shit attitude got me around the contours of Brockwell with a half decent time.
I knew that I wouldn't achieve a PB, and so sod it.
Yeah, I came close to chucking up a couple of of occasions, but I still managed a fist pump with my sprint finish.
And then it was:
To the lido!
Sally strolled up to South London as part of her fifty miles in fifty days BONKERS swimming challenge.
I managed to snap her as she was eating up the waters of Lake Brockwell.
I didn't quite manage a mile.
Twelve lengths of Lake Brockwell made me feel happy.
Anyone up for a Dulwich Hamlet Oyster card away day?
To Wingate and Finchley it was then.
I got lost. Horribly lost in North London suburban hell.
The 1pm kick off didn't help (although Mike Urban managed it 'fresh' from clubbing it back in Brixton the night before.)
I finally strolled up at the N12 ground at around 1:15pm, just in time to see Dulwich go 1-0 down.
1-0 then became 3-0.
Remind me what I am doing in North London on a Saturday afternoon?
Come full time and @clogsilk, @darryl1974 and I buggered off to the nearest Weatherspoon's boozer.
We didn't shift for almost six hours.
SEE YA, Saturday.