A Dismal Outlook

I have picked up a sports injury putting my selection for the Commonwealth games in doubt.
It was the groin stretching exercise, done as an after thought on the way out of the gym this morning, that proved the old adage 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof'. There was a distinct 'ping' in my groin, which I felt and can convince myself I heard, and which left me doing a sort of soft shoe shuffle home.

Now during my decades of self delusion that under this comfy frame of mine, there lies an aspiring athlete, I have picked up many injuries, but never this one. I feel as a footballer must, when so afflicted.
It was a mistake to take to the Internet to discover the length of time it may take to recover and walk normally and not like a geisha girl in shoes several sizes too small.

With the pouring rain still intent on recreating the erstwhile Borough Loch outside the policies, I hobbled with His Lordship to the local Starbucks to catch a colourful blip of passers by.
There was no luck: really people should be forced to wear bright colours when out in the rain.
Even the huge multicoloured umbrella given out by the local hotel to a couple, and which I was hoping to blip when it came past the window blew inside out just out of frame and was quickly furled.

It's a dismal outlook as I sit ingesting my Ibuprofen.