Overkill

I thought we were supposed to worship Gravy Thursday?

No, instead my alarm went off at 7am this morning and I cycled up to Odd Barracks to meet the Corporal at 7.45. Nom didn't make it so far, failing on the first hurdle, that of finding a shirt and pants in time. My saddle was wet due to rain last night, thus I re-created the triathlon 'cycling in soggy pants' experience - another aspect of my training that I could have done without.

Fromage had 'things to do' at 7am on a Thursday morning, during his fortnight off, and was excused. So 50% of the team, to wit the Corporal and myself cycled to the local(ish) swimming pool to endure 35ish minutes of front crawl (aargh...blub blub blub...). I say cycled, but I had a small incident with a kerb and a wall, in which I, as the least valuable of myself and my bike, was voted to collide with the wall.

Exit pool (freeze, brrrrr!), cycle to work, drink coffee and punch ineffectually at keyboard for 7.5 hours, go to local carvery for large amount of gravy, cycle home in the rapidly approaching dark.
The sensible eating plan is on track because the staff restaurant had run out of calzone. Nom and Veg however had backup pizza: SUCCESS. Veg has actually had 7 of her 5-a-day today and the Corporal has had 37, assuming roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings and gravy are vegetables.

There are more stories, but they belong to others. Watch this space for such narrative delights as:
- Fromage has discovered what the perplexing bit on the back of his helmet does
- Fromage has had his feet scrutinised by professionals and has new shoes
- Corporal Odd is reunited with FrankenOdd's Monster
- Veg's reflector has fallen off - curses to Halfords and their womky alum keys
- 4 spellings of 'alum key' have been discovered

Veg is cold now and is going to bed.

STOP PRESS: Nom is 31 tomorrow!