After yesterday’s exertions, the last thing that I wanted to do on a wet Friday night to go for a run. Especially with the prospect of a chippy tea in the offing. A token mile was agreed and out came the treasure list for perusal. I tried to tempt Ginge’s nemesis (a big fat fluffy black and white beast that poos in the potato patch) to hang around so that I could tick cat off the list, but to no avail.

Our eyes fell on another of Rachel’s suggestions (that’s Rachel of legendary Lego tableaux fame) – run an errand. We needed some milk. I would run for milk.

There are milk selling shops within view of our house, but I felt that even if I ran 10 miles, running mere feet with my shopping wouldn’t be in the spirit of the treasure list. We debated the morals of this for some time until Ginge declared that if I didn’t get a move on then I wouldn’t get any tea; this wasn’t a veiled threat, just the fact that the chippy would be shut…

Anyway, there’s a Spar half a mile down the road, so on the 8th day of Juneathon I ran a mile loop, for half of which I was accompanied by two pints of semi-skimmed.