This weekend we went up to Lancaster for the Lancaster Beer Festival. This was never going to be a diet-friendly weekend; we started on Friday afternoon with several pints of Lancaster Blonde and some pub knitting, on for a meal at the Italian that we used to go to when we were courting, and then it seemed rude not to take advantage of another of the city’s real ale pubs. Normally I would never consider trying to fit a run into this sort of weekend, but we had been up to see the nice ladies at the New Balance factory shop and I had a shiny new pair of 1226s to try out. As such, I stopped drinking at ten o’clock, felt relatively fresh on Saturday morning and trotted out for a pre-breakfast 3.25miles.
My route took me along the Lancaster canal (contributing no miles to my canal adventure), starting at the bridge near my old halls of residence where the empty 3 litre white cider bottles suggest that it’s still tramps’ corner (or students, who knows) and down the towpath until, in the distance, I could see some sheep in a field. Wildly, I changed course down the lonely footpath that may or may not have lead to my first lamb-spotting of the season. Luckily it did and I saw these little beauties, who stared at me rather curiously.
Back along the canal, through town, to an amazing breakfast and a lazy day before the beer festival (where I stopped drinking at about eleven and could not find the words to convey the happiness I felt at being able to get a lovely cup of tea in the pub we ended up in. It was amazing).
This week’s meal planning will attempt to make reparation for the vast amount of food we consumed.