Sunday

I curse this bloody head cold. The guts have cleared up but now my nose is blocked solid and my eyes are puffy and I feel like a different kind of crap.

I would love to jump on the bike and go for a spin somewhere - anywhere would do, but at the moment, I couldn't make it to the end of the street.

So I am standing there in the kitchen this fine Sunday morning, feeling like two kinds of crap when I notice lots of rapidly walking people going by. I am used to seeing people wandering by leading dogs, pushing prams, carrying remote control cars, footballs and cricket bats, but I have never seen people tearing by. Yes, there was some sort of walking race going on, and an official of some sort was stationed just up the road to look for lifting and that sort of thing. I sniffed, and went and took some photos. I like to walk, and walk quickly, but competitive walking to me looks about as much fun as enema races.

To cap of my lack of exercise misery, lots of cyclists started going by. It was a perfect day for it - hardly any wind, temperature not too high, sun poking out from behind the clouds.

I went inside and buried myself in a book. My eyes are so puffy at the moment, I can hardly see what I am typing.