Warning – this post contains failure and pottering. And more than likely a feline or two. If that’s not your thing then look away now.
Right. The day started promisingly enough. Not running in the morning because I planned on going to the tough club run that evening. Lunch with my parents and daughter (very nice) and a quick trip to collect my son and do some shopping. Foccaccia bread in the oven and minestrone soup on the hob and my resolve was wavering. It was very warm still, I was tired and had a bit of a headache (more cat early morning shenanigans), and dinner smelt so good so … I didn’t go to running club. Sorry. I ate dinner with my children instead.
Watering new plants out in the garden later I thought I could still pop out for a little run, and if I had managed an unbroken ‘streak’ up to that point I would have done. However after the disaster of the weekend that streak was long gone and the pressure (and incentive) was off. Instead I had a lovely potter around the garden: some watering, a little weeding, a general check up on my new plants accompanied by older tabby boy. Then I went inside and played with the kittens. It was lovely, so I’m having pottering and kittening* as my Juneathon activities for today.
* Of course this is a real word, and it is definitely NOT slacking. Those kitties run damn fast!