Saturday's radioactive offerings.
Some days I think Non Memnoch gets a kick out of torture, perhaps it is an instructor thing. Certainly he can sniff when you're low on energy and punish you accordingly.
He had us sparring in three minute rounds yesterday, adding points for good strikes or good combinations, deducting points for dropping hands or leaving a hand out, anything in fact he deemed a false punch.
Three minutes can seem awfully long when you're going at it hell for leather.
Then to make sure he finished us off good and proper he made us sprint, round house, sprint, double round house, sprint, and so on until we were at ten. My legs were like jelly after.
This morning finds me ouchy, but at least I'm not skiing, like Finn, who has lost her will to live as well as the skin from her elbows.
Today I will take CG's dog for a hike. He will chase squirrels and get soaked, I will poodle along behind him, waiting to see if he ever feels tired* and hoping I don't run into a radioactive paedophile.
Oh yes, there is a radioactive paedophile loose in the country. Thomas Leopold absconded a few days before his child porn trail in the UK and police believe he hotfooted it here. Why do child touchers always think Ireland is a good place to hide out? Who knows, but he's thought to be here and like I say, radioactive from a bout of cancer treatment. I immediately thought 'watch out fall out boy' but I am sad that way.
Now breakfast I think, bacon and eggs sounds about right. I mean I've put on a kilo this week alone, I might as well. Who knew eating mini snickers, drinking all the beer you like and not going to the gym would make a body gain weight? Oh right, I did. Pfft.
*I keep telling myself that.
*I don't know what this is about, I don't really like chocolate.
* As far as I know he doesn't get tired, not really. His tail might dip slightly.