Stuff.

This has been a dynamic couple of weeks. I handed in my notice at work then had the statutory two days rest I should have been having every week whilst driving. The agency rang me three times on my last week, so I was worried I was going to have to fight for my days off. Then nothing. They rang me with a job driving a Transit van to Essex for two days. Not what I wanted, but I said OK, then they said it was minimum wage. I was less than chuffed, but they said ‘could you do it as a favour to us?’ I’m not here to do favours, I’m here to earn a living. Grrrr. Anyway, I was going to do it as they’d caught me off guard, then be prepared to refuse if they tried to get me to do it again. They rang back and cancelled the gig. Which was fine by me. I’d earned brownie points by taking the crap job, then not had to do it. Super.

Then nothing. No calls, no work. They tried to get me a week’s work driving a low-loader with tipper trucks on it.They asked if I’d ever driven a tipper truck. I haven’t. I said I’d be willing to give it a go, though. They were happy enough with that, but apparently the client wanted someone who could actually do the job. Fussy buggers.

I finally got a job on the bin wagons for Friday. I didn’t like my first go on them a few weeks ago. Very tight situations and you have to reverse in to them. Very difficult. And it’s class 2 work, so not what I’m after and less pay.

I want class 1 work. Where it’s virtually all driving forward and just the occasional reverse to worry about. You can take your time and make sure it’s all spot on then. When half of your time is spent reversing into situations that are too tight to be able to drive straight into, and you’re a newbie, mistakes are going to happen.

 

In other news, I’ve just ran the Warrington Half Marathon again. It was my first ever half, last year. This year, being the nearly superhuman triathlete that I am I treated it with contempt. I’ve just bought someone’s place in the Liverpool Marathon for next month, as they can’t make it. Because of a nagging minor leg injury (and laziness) I’ve only done three, ten mile runs since the Outlaw, six weeks ago. When I heard of the place on the Liverpool Marathon I thought I’d better get back to training. I was torn as the week or so before a race you are supposed to taper your training. Just enough to keep you from setting really. On the other hand I wanted to up my miles quickly and prove to myself I was still capable of a marathon. With the above mentioned contempt in mind (‘it’s only a half!’) I did a 13 mile ride to warm my leg up, then a 20 mile run, carrying  a water backpack, on Wednesday. Damn the contempt, but I thought I’d be fine by today.

Not so. I was trying to improve on my time of last year (1.43) and expecting to bring it in around 1.30. I ran the first mile at 7.30 minute/ mile pace whilst I warmed up. Then instead of speeding up I just kept dropping off the pace. My legs were like lead. I had the breath and the energy, but I just couldn’t make my legs work. It turned into an act of endurance just to grind the miles out. I finally finished (without the picking up of pace over the last mile and the sprint for the line of last year) in 1.47! And that was bloody hard going. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

Ho hum, give it a few days then start training for some distance running. Try and redeem myself.

 

Whilst I’ve had free time on my hands I’ve started painting the place. That’s a shitty job only to attempted when you are desperately bored! I’ve done the kitchen, loo, and adjoining little space. Now it’s the stairs and the bedrooms. When I get stir crazy again. Nothing too different, just to make the place look clean again.

 

I also spent an afternoon down my allotment harvesting spuds, and digging over and weeding half of it. The other half is threatening.

 

Still, I’m not working at DHL anymore. Yay!

Later,

Buck.

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