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30.03 – 05.04

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Life

We drove to Beverley on Monday.’Nobody puked’ is the most positive spin you could put on the journey.

I was working for most of the week. I don’t think I was on particularly good form but don’t think I broke anything either, so call it a draw.

I finished a shade early on Thursday and made a dash for the seaside where we enjoyed chips, ocean spray, and an extremely bracing walk in the early stages of Storm Dave.

The Lees arrived back from their holiday on Friday and the cousins commenced their long-awaited and much-anticipated bollocking-about festival. This situation continued, punctuated by every shade of all available emotions over the course of the Easter weekend. The kids mostly managed to be happy with each other. Ηη leant (even) more into his melodramatic self, which mostly had the effect of winding me up and making me ignore him in order to avoid shouting at him. I don’t think either of us came out particularly well (I probably shouldn’t have described him as a ‘wanker’ to Σσ’s parents). I found myself really wishing he could be a bit more like Αα on more than one occasion. But then he wouldn’t be him.

I’d forgotten than Easter in Beverley means enduring the Classic FM Hall of Fame top 300 – the world’s most pointless music chart (it’s basically always the same so you might as well have an annual competition to choose your favourite Latin word) interspersed with ads for supermarkets. I have a strong dislike for all of it.

Reading

• On the Calculation of Volume II by Solvej Balle

Running

The 10 x 800 was among the worst sessions I think I’ve ever endured. It’s apparently taken me training for a flat marathon to make me appreciate that Beverley isn’t nearly as flat as I’d previously accused it of being. Got the final 20-miler done on Sunday and felt a profound satisfaction and lightness having made it all the way to the taper. It’s mine to lose from here.