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

I finished watching Small Prophets, and very belatedly started on Detectorists, which so far seems to share the same gentle humour. Also mostly filmed a few miles down the road from here, in Framlingham.

Before the training session on Tuesday night we had a photo on the beach for some of the people in the club who’d run Spring marathons – apparently our new publicity officer Dom’s going to write something up for the local paper, which is also handily his employer.

Friday saw the first race of this year‘s Friday 5 Series, which as usual was our home fixture at Kirton. The temperature had suddenly rocketed, and it was warm enough just standing round helping with registration beforehand, but it did cool down a tiny bit before the start. I didn’t have too bad a race – faster than the past couple of years, albeit still half a minute outside my PB. If we turn to the old man’s metric of choice though, it was my best age grade over five miles.

Saturday morning was still very warm for parkrun, which ended up being an excuse to sit in the Cricketers garden afterwards for a second breakfast and some breakfast beers. My plan was to treat the breakfast as lunch, then make a pizza as an early dinner, but by the time I’d got home, showered, fallen asleep for a bit and finally got round to making the dough (as well as more dough for some naans to put in the freezer to make the most of firing the pizza oven up), it wasn’t early at all.

I spent some of Sunday resurrecting my old road bike, which has been sitting unloved in the garage for about 17 years. I’d already replaced a broken spoke and more-or-less trued the wheel, and now I’ve also fitted a new crankset to replace the one I cannibalised for another bike, put the brakes and seat post back (I can’t remember why I took them off – they were just on a shelf), and refitted the original seat. I started trying to adjust the gears, but decided I need some new cables first. Once that’s done, it should serve as a “B” bike for when I don’t fancy single speed but don’t want to take the nice one out.

Then it was back to the Cricketers to meet Dave, Glen, Neil, Gill, Rob and Jo for a quiet Sunday evening drink that somehow turned into leaving just before they closed at 1am. Oops.

In what I hope is the final chapter of my water leak saga, I got an email from Anglian Water on Wednesday, saying that they’re doubling my direct debit because “We’ve noticed that you’ve been using much more water than we expected you to since the last time we reviewed your payments”. Hmm, I wonder why that could be. Perhaps it’s somehow related to the massive leak that you (a) caused when you fitted the smart meter, (b) told me I needed to fix, and (c, eventually, after me getting specialists in to trace the leak) fixed. At least it reminded me to fill in the form to claim the “leakage allowance” for the extra usage they charged me for while most of my metered water was slowly draining away under the road. Naturally the form made me fill in all my details, despite being signed into their website, then told to provide two meter readings, no less than 14 days apart. By an uncharacteristic stroke of luck, I did actually have exactly 14 days (plus a few hours) of readings since the leak stopped. To be fair to them, they did respond very quickly, and refunded £181.62, based on my usage since November compared to the average for the past two weeks. I assume they’ll keep charging me extra until they realise that I’m using less than they expected again. Now they have instant readings I ought to check whether it’s possible to just pay at the end of the month for whatever I’ve used, like I do with electricity and gas.

It was Fat Cat meet-up night again on Wednesday, with just me, Rupert and Mel this week. I arrived a bit late having run the long way home from work, so limited myself to a civilised two pints. I passed the friendly sheep again on the run. At least I’m pretty sure it was the same ones – they were a bit less friendly this time, but have had a haircut since last time.

I’ve been watching Small Prophets (interspersed with yet another Buffy rewatch), which is a nice mixture of weirdness and gentle humour. Still a couple of episodes to go, then I have a feeling I ought to check out The Detectorists, which I never got round to watching despite hearing lots of good things about.

A busy weekend, starting by cycling to Kesgrave for parkrun, before nipping home to change and switch bikes before meeting at the Cricketers for a small second breakfast and a pint before what’s become an annual ride in memory of Ben, who was killed in a crash with a car three years ago. We did a loop of just under 50 miles via the Sorrel Horse at Shottisham, the Green Man at Tunstall, the Chequers at Kettleburgh and the Moon and Mushroom at Swilland, before recovering back at the Cricketers. I was definitely glad to have decided to use my nice bike rather than riding fixed gear as usual.

Then on Sunday it was the Woodbridge 10k – a definite candidate for the best race in the local calendar. I wasn’t expecting much after Saturday, but somehow managed (I think – the results aren’t out yet) to just squeeze under 45 minutes, which is quicker than last year. Maybe because unlike most years it wasn’t boiling hot.

Bank Holiday Monday saw the traditional open-topped bus parade for Ipswich Town’s promotion to the Premier League. I’m not bothered about football, but was tempted to head down to meet Dave, Sally, Rob, Jo and Neil for a quick glimpse before what I expected to be lunch and a few pints in the Cricketers. As it turned out, this dragged on into the evening, followed by an additional stop at the Fat Cat on the way home. Even Neil, who until recently was rarely seen drinking more than the odd half, ended up having five pints – apparently the most he’s had since being a teenager.

Despite that, I managed to get up and cycle to work on Tuesday, then also cycle to Felixstowe and back for club training in the evening. I went out for a solo trail run on Wednesday evening (mostly missing the rain, but still getting soaked by oil seed rape plants either side of a narrow path, which were like wet sponges), then on Thursday evening I jogged out to Specsavers to finally pick up my latest pair of reading glasses (technically VDU glasses, which makes them free from work), and to vote on my way home. Sadly Suffolk County Council fell to reform, but Ipswich is still Labour-controlled for the moment.

I’m beginning to think the walkway outside our office may be cursed. When it was first built they (allegedly) put the decking planks on upside-down and it was almost immediately closed because it was slippery when wet. Then a few years later the rotting wooden surface was all replaced with plastic, and some time after that the steel frame was found to be rusting away, and last year the whole thing was removed and replaced with a raised concrete path.

This week we had an email saying the walkway is “temporarily closed due to an outbreak of caterpillars”.

Kafka is alive and well in our corporate IT processes. I got an email “escalating” the fact that I hadn’t reviewed registrations on the email relay service. Unfortunately (a) the “review” only allows you to confirm that an entry is still required, not indicate that it isn’t; (b) it says it’ll be disabled if I don’t review it by three weeks ago; and (c) because apps have four kinds of owner, and I’m all of them, the “escalation” involved CCing me three times on the email.

After Run for Coffee on Friday and parkrun on Saturday (obviously), I ran the Stephen Williams 10k on Sunday. I didn’t get too bad a time, what with it not being a fortnight after a marathon (last year) or the morning after the Twilight 5k (the year before). I still just about had enough energy to go out and cut my front hedge in the afternoon, before people start complaining about it encroaching on the pavement again.

Finally, we finished the week the way we started it, with dinner and slightly too much beer at the Cricketers again.

Sadly I lost Nobby cat this week. He’d been a bit frail for a while (he was about 18 – not sure exactly because he adopted us as a young cat in 2008 and stayed when his official owners moved away), and on Wednesday he lost interest in food and looked very sorry for himself. By the time I got home from work he was just lying on the bed. I was going to take him to the vet on Thursday morning, but he died at some point during the night. At least it seems like he went fairly peacefully, and in familiar surroundings, rather than spending his last few days on a drip in a cage at the vet’s.

The summer race season kicked off on Sunday with the Ipswich Twilight 5k. Like last year I was in the 17–21 minute wave, with a self-assigned target of just staying inside 21. Last year I managed 20:56, and this year … 20:55! Albeit this time I’d had three weeks to recover from a marathon rather than six days. After watching the ridiculously quick runners in the sub-17 wave we predictably headed to the Cricketers for a few too many beers in the garden.