The day before

What a smashing spring morning here in Aberdeenshire. Clear as you like, nae wind and nicely fresh. Lots of "little brown jobs" chirping away since the sun came up. The dogs allowed us a wee bit of a lie in - 7:30-ish, and once I'd woke up, it was a joy to walk them. My second mug of tea is winging its way to me as I write and two dew-dampened mutts are curled up under my desk, fighting over a chew toy. In an hour or so we should be heading out to meet friends for a long, Sunday run through some forrestry, followed by lunch - or so I'm told.

I've been getting relatively fit again since comming off the first programme of chemo, and can once again whip Corri's arse over most runs, though not long distances. Both she and her friend we're running with are training for marathons, so pushing up the miles. I'm just happy to be doing enough to rid myself of the post-steroid-induced gut I managed to develop whilst eating myself into oblivion and doing nae much excercise. As this will likely be my last run for a few weeks, I intend to make the most of it and the day couldn't be better.

On the real-ale front, I managed to control myself last night and limited activities to a couple of wee bottles. On the SCT front, I'm not really thinking about it, to be honest.

Later..