Rock, Paper, Glass.... aarrggh!

But somehow I don't think my new game will catch on.....

I thought I'd try a new extreme sport just before going away on a Triathlon training camp.... 'Washing Up'. I'd played the game before but this time was to be different. As the newly cleaned glass clipped the edge of the sink and started a graceful pirouette towards the drainage board, my lightning fast reflexes pushed out my left hand to catch the glass before it shattered into a million pieces...... however, gravities response was marginally faster than mine, so my hand arrived as the glass shattered. Result: sharp glass in between middle and ring finger, loads of blood and a slightly shocked me wondering why it wasn't hurting! So, a quick call to Dis, pressure applied to gaping wound, arm raised above head and a trip to A&E. 3.5 hrs later, leave A&E with 6 suters, 5 butterfly stitches and a huge bandage holding everything together.

And so to the training camp..... can't swim, can't bike, what do you do? Well, I ran... lots. which considering my A race is a running race was actually quite handy. Keep on Running...... I also did some sun-worshipping - it's good for healing deep wounds in the hand I'm led to believe.

And now the stitches are out and I'm trying to cultivate a neat, but noticable scar. I just need to work on a good story as to how the scar was made.

In other news we have a new pet.... a Degu. The worrying thing is he's far more intelligent than me (Oi! I heard that). If he was slightly bigger, with an orange hue, pointy ears and chased by a pack of hounds he'd probably be a fox. As it is he's not a fox he's a very naughty Degu!

I wonder what's happening with TOAH? If our alternating illness/injury trend continues then.... oh no, er, hmmm....

But the women, they all know hopscotch...

Atomic Hamster

Whatever happened to all the heroes?

After a Saturday night of Falstaffian debauchery (or a glass of wine and an industrial-sized portion of spag. bol.) Team Overall were set for a 13.1 mile perambulation of the Warwickshire countryside at the Shakespeare Half Marathon.

Our plan was simple; we'd set off hard and see how far we got before it turned ugly.

It wasn't so bad for the first few miles; 'Argrrrrrrrgh!'ing at the crowd, startling other runners who had their names on their backs, enjoying the sunshine; it was our sunshine, our only sunshine.

Then at eight miles it turned ugly. Uglier than Betty. Uglier than Kid Joe. Whatever happened to Mr Hamster? He got a side stitch that made his ears burn.

Mr ATOM was faring little better, having lingered too long at the junction of Postviral and Undertraining...

We considered a pause to watch our Rome burn...

...but you can blag a half marathon, so we did, jogging in in 1:53:shrapnel. Not as we like it, but all's well that ends well.

Before Stonehenge there was Woodhenge and Strawhenge. 200 miles in this day and age? I don't even know where I live now...

The other A-H

Except that since the race...