Trophy husband

Taking it easy this week to try to rest the pulled bum. Which I have now google-diagnosed as Upper Hamstring Tendinitis. Obviously the cure is rest. And obviously, I'm not going to give it the satisfaction. But missed PIYO and football on Monday and the fartlek session on Tuesday. By Wednesday, I'd had enough and played football. Not too bad but had to do without my usual explosive acceleration. Ahem.
On Thursday, I had the day off to take mum to see her cardiac surgeon for post-operative check-up. All good. She can drive again and, thank goodness, she's allowed to go on holiday next week. It would have been a long drive back from Oxford if the answer had been No. A very long drive!
Friday saw the Friday evening 5 a side and I was almost back to mid-season form.

But what about the shameful lack of a trophy for the winner of the OU Tour last week? I hear you say. Well, I didn't want to raise the matter and look pathetic but, luckily, 48 year-old L thought that he might have missed out on the 'Best Male Runner Over 45" trophy (it all gets rather niche) and asked questions in the house and, as a result, some of last year's winners handed back some missing trophies. Including this one. Which made its way to the rightful winner. Ahem.

Isn't it ugly? And obscene? Still, it's beautiful to me.

Not as beautiful as chatting to M and finding out that his best ParkRun time is about 40 seconds slower than the 5K that I miraculously put in on the tour. I need to make the most of this. It's about the only thing I've beaten him on since he was about 16.

(Efficiently, this picture also shows the new office, the car-park and, err, me).