After a hell of a day at work and with a sore achilles, the last thing I wanted to do was run home. Seriously contemplated the taxi option but I'd told Maggie she had to go to run training (after a day of touch footy) so felt like a hypocrit if I pulled out. So I plodded home.
Achilles actually felt better as the run went on and wasn't as sore as expected. Kirst was in bed by the time I arrived (9.20pm) so this was dinner:
1 comment:
You are not doing any favours to Manly's faltering reputation as a food destination.
Post a Comment