I arranged to go for a run with Fat Mac some time ago, but nowadays he can’t even manage to run to the offie if he finishes his carryout and the shop’s about to close, so the plan was that he’d cycle whilst I ran. However, on top of everything and the usual hangover, he’s now got a cold, so couldn’t come.
My goodness, he’s let himself go the past few weeks. He must have put on a further three kilos or more. The exclusive diet of potatoes and Guinness can’t help his vitamin deficiency. Also, laying in the bath for two hours every day isn’t good for his various skin conditions. I’d thought that an hour’s fresh air would do his scabs some good, but it wasn’t to be. Instead, I ran 9.5 miles round Musselburgh Racecourse and back by myself.
I’m looking forwards to the Alloa Half Marathon. Once again, despite the promises, Fat Mac won’t be there.