God is a runner!

Sunday morning and Sharon is stressed. She is trying to lose the lapsed part of her lapsed Catholic status and is attending mass on a Sunday morning. (Disclaimer: this activity is in no way associated with Sharon trying to ensure that George and Claudia have a chance of attending one of the local Catholic schools that have received excellent OFSTED reports) Mass is at 9:15 or 11:00, due to Claudia's feeding patterns the 9:15 session is the best one so Lionel Richie is completely wrong, there is nothing easy about Sunday morning. To compound matters George is not feeling well. A compromise is struck - Sharon will go to church with Claudia and save our souls, George will go to his nans and I will go running and wear out my soles (sorry very poor but I'm struggling for material).
I help load the kids into the car and Sharon sets off to drop off George and repent our sins and stop us burning in hell. The 'lazy devil' appears on my left shoulder saying "Paul, she's gone for over an our, go and watch Match of the Day, when you hear the car just splash water on your face and pretend to have just got back". "Get thee behind me Satan" I shout which mildly surprises my neighbour as she walks to her car. I dismiss that thought and get ready to run.
The plan is an 8 mile run along the river. I set off about 9:10 and it's cold but very sunny. The garmin quickly picks up a signal and I'm off. After about 5 minutes I am running passed the Church Sharon is in, suddenly there is black clouds everywhere and I seem crows in the trees. As I put distance between myself and the church the sun emerges and I run through Ravenscourt Park full of the joys of nearly Spring. Soon I'm through the park and onto King's Street passing dog walkers and dad's pushing screaming kids in buggies. I turn up Black Lion Lane, cross the subway, Black Lion Lane and then I'm on the river. The weather is great, I've warmed up and the sun is bright. Up to Hammersmith Bridge, passed the 4 paraletic polish drunks in their Sunday best for church, over the bridge then up the track toward Barnes. The heavy overnight rain means that there are large puddles and muddy patches, fortunately as it is quite early there are not many runners. I head up to Barnes Bridge with only a few slips and slides and hit 4.5 miles, so I decide this is now a 9 mile run. Instead of retracing my steps I decide to cross the bridge (one of only 3 London rail bridges that has pedestrian crossing as well) and head back on the north side of the river. By the time I get back toward Hamersmith Bridge the Rutland is doing a good breakfast business and all the rowing clubs are out. I then head back up Black Lion Lane and up to Ravenscourt. As I pass the church it is quiet being between services. As I reach my front gate the Garming flicks to 9 miles exactly. Sharon has collected George and has beat me home by a minute. The run was really good, I felt good went faster than the scheduled pace and could have gone on a lot longer. So it's upstairs for a shower and watch out ladies I am now using Lynx Vice, apparently it turns nice girls naughty.

FCB - 11 DP - 5 H - 3 (miserable bastards)