My Saturday morning was shattered when I arrived at the Brockwell Park run, only to see that Madam Pacemaker was hunting me down.
"I'm up for it this morning - you in?"
...she rather disappointingly asked.
I LOVE Madam Pacemaker. She guides me around the BW Run, and then buggers off at the end with a sprint finish that I can never live with.
She is the sole reason my PB came down to 20:09.
It 'aint shifting any lower.
But then each week I turn up, see her enthusiasm and think YEAH, let's do this.
I felt good for the first circuit of the park. We paced our run perfectly, catching up the early sprinters, and then making some progress on the first Cressingham climb.
I knew what was coming next.
Seeing Madam Pacemaker drop her arms to her hips is a sign that yep, SHE IS UP FOR IT.
You go, Madam Pacemaker.
Nope - YOU REALLY DO GO.
I waved her along, and then plodded around the second circuit alone.
I was overtaken with some style by Mr Nu Labour Cllr.
He gave me a smirk as he sped past.
The beauty of Lake Brockwell was far more peaceful.
It was another BLOODY LOVELY Brockwell blue swim of a morning.
I stayed around for a few chats, but time was against me. It was ACE to catch up with @Hendopolis for the first time this season.
Conversations elsewhere were all about Chuka.
I noticed all too briefly as I was leaving the progress being made on replacing the lido decking. This fascinates me.
The old decking has been down for around 15 summers. I remember when it was first put in place.
And now it is being ripped up, plank by plank.
What lies underneath is absolute Brockwell Gold - the Transpontine social history of layers of long since forgotten lido artefacts.
Under the paving stone, Brixton Beach, etc Comrades.
My previous 'lively' lido lifestyle has seen a few scenes being played out on those very same concrete slabs.
I headed back over there briefly at lunchtime. I've got some work at the Arts Centre on Sunday afternoon and so need to be around for that.
I arrived back at base just in time to see the Surrey innings in the t20 twaddle.
I still haven't recovered from the thrashing at The Oval last night.
I don't think that the 'rrey have either.
Anna and I had a rare Quayside BOOZE trip late afternoon.
The estuary sun was shining. It just seemed right to soak up the sun and the alcohol.
It was most pleasurable.
It became a mini-pub crawl with a trip to the Black Buoy as well.
And then a spot of drunken gardening, followed by the Giro highlights.