Kerry Buckley What’s the simplest thing that could possibly go wrong?

Four day week! And not only that, but a four day weekend too.

On Friday I headed to Sudbury for the “fun run”, which despite the name is very much a proper road race. It also has the distinction of being the only race I know of that includes a road crossing on a zebra crossing, which the motorists must love! Only 15s slower than two years ago (last year’s time looks much quicker, but the course was short thanks to some unexpected emergency roadworks that caused a last-minute change of finish line location). Sudbury always seems to take ages to get to, despite not being far away, but Google Maps managed to make it take even longer on the way back, taking us a very odd route. Still, it was through pretty countryside, and it was warm enough to open the sunroof for the first time this year (28 days earlier than last year!), so I’m not complaining.

When I did eventually get home I had to figure out what I could make for lunch with the fairly meagre contents of the fridge and no bread, and settled on pancakes – just two days before we’re supposed to start eating them again! I assume that’s how Lent works, anyway.

After 12 weeks at Kesgrave parkrun, I tagged along with Holly, Maria and Gary who felt like a change of scenery and headed to Framlingham (actually Thomas Mills) instead. Still no word on a return for the Ipswich event – a man walking his dog even stopped while I was waiting to be picked up (and wearing my parkrun shirt) to ask me if there was any news. I’d not done the Framlingham event before, and it’s not massively exciting – basically two laps of a mixture of school playing fields and farmer’s field edges – but pleasant enough. Afterwards we headed into the town for some breakfast at the Two Magpies bakery. The name of the place made for a couple of odd-sounding items on the menu, like “Two Magpies sourdough toast & butter”, only saved by capital letters and the absence of a comma. We all ended up opting for the full English, which was particularly greedy on my part, being the only one who’d already had one breakfast before setting out.

In the afternoon I made my traditional hot, cross buns (with a comma this time). I realise that traditionally they’re for Good Friday, but never mind. I didn’t even leave them overnight after their first proving so they could rise again on Easter Sunday (I’m here all week).

On Sunday Robin organised another “freedom parkrun” at Chantry Park. I thought I had plenty of time to get there, but decided my bike tyres were a bit soft and needed some air, and when I took the dust cap off the rear wheel the valve (and all the air) came with it. I screwed it back in and pumped the tyre up again, but could hear a hiss and didn’t fancy its chances of staying up for 15 minutes. I grabbed my old mountain bike (which only comes into play in this kind of scenario), found that had a completely flat back tyre, pumped it up and hoped for the best. It did indeed stay inflated and got me there, but only barely in time for the start. Not sure whether it was the lack of a breather after riding up the hill, or delayed tiredness from Friday, but despite plodding round really slowly I felt awful, struggling not to give up and walk. Still, a week of very little running now, before the big one next Sunday.

Weirdly, given that the tyre had only gone slightly soft since I last rode it on Thursday, the hiss turned out to be a puncture. All fixed now, and will hopefully stay that way.

Another month must have elapsed, because Wednesday was time for another meet-up with Rupert, Mel and Joe in the Fat Cat. Always good to catch up.

I’ve now received my number (50267) for the London Marathon, which makes it start to feel alarmingly real. That’s just the information of the number of course, not the physical bib number – I have to make an otherwise unnecessary extra trip to London in the few days before the event to collect that at the Expo, because capitalism.

I had a more welcome trip to London on Saturday, to see Jim Bob’s 40 years and 40 songs show at the Shepherds Bush Empire. I had been planning to get the train down, but replacement buses would have made that unpleasant. Fortunately some friends who were also going had decided not to stay overnight after all, and they gave me a lift to Stratford from where we got the tube in. Instead of a support act, the gig started with an hour of Mister Spoons playing DJ and strutting around with a variety of props to match the songs (the highlight was him waving an apricot parkrun shirt around and having the crowd enthusiastically yelling “parkrun” at the appropriate points in Parklife). Then a solid nearly three hours of songs from the pre-Carter, Carter and post-Carter years, beginning solo, then bringing on Chris TT on piano, then the full Hood Rats band, and brief appearances from an additional horn section and – much to everyone’s excitement – Fruitbat. As expected, the mosh pit got quite wild, but fortunately for us aging fans there were plenty of slower songs to calm people down between the madness.

Once again, that didn’t exactly make for perfect preparation for a Sunday race, although at least this time it was only 10k (at Little Bromley) instead of 20 miles. I still managed a vaguely respectable time considering, then went home to keep an eye on WhatsApp updates from Cromer letting us know how the friends who were running the Norfolk Marathon were doing.

Well, that “grown up” decision a couple of weeks ago to put this financial year’s Isa allowance in a Vanguard fund instead of cash is off to a flying start! Thanks to the orange buffoon across the Atlantic, I’m already down over 5% compared to just sticking it all under the mattress. Obviously it’s a long term game, but disconcerting nonetheless. Almost tempting to assume this is the low point and throw good money after bad, but I can’t help remembering that BT Sharesave scheme that I could have cashed in at £10 a share but instead watched it drop to under £2 (and also failed to sell when they hit a later peak of around a fiver. I guess what I’m saying is don’t rely on me for financial advice!

We’ve reached the time of year when it’s warm enough to leave the back door open while I’m at home, which is popular with Casper “I still don’t understand the concept of a cat flap” cat. Of course he still comes back in to use his litter tray. Also, Ninja cat has somehow managed to get a nasty gash on his back. He was a bit skittish for a few days, and I didn’t rate my chances of being able to catch him to take him to the vet, but it seems to be healing up OK now and not causing him much distress (he’s back to rolling over on my lap for a tummy rub now, when he’s not out sunning himself in the garden).

I ran to work for a change on Wednesday, instead of cycling, and somehow managed to be showered and at my desk half an hour earlier than usual. Sunday was my last proper long run before London, and a bunch of us combined a route between various local parks with the unofficial definitely-not-a-parkrun that Robin had arranged to remind us all what Ipswich parkrun was like (still no news other than occasional rumours about when or how it will return). It was a nice day for it, there was a decent turnout, and a pleasant 5k was had by all. Obviously it would have been rude not to divert to the Cricketers for a few pints on the run home. With the other normal stuff (club, TTT, parkrun), that took me over 55 miles this week – time to start thinking about tapering!