First surf for ages

I was about to write a moany blog about how I had finished all the chocolate buttons and fingers of fudge in Clackmannanshire and moved on to Crunchies and Cadbury's fruit and nut (which I have) while Ailsa keeps writing perky blogs about what lovely runs she's been on (which she has). Motivation keeps failing to raise its head for me. Despite nice-ish weather last night I put together half an Ikea chest instead of running.

But! I remembered that I had done some form of exercise after all - I went surfing on Sunday. Yep, first one since the crap session at Lunan on our hot tub long weekend in Angus back in January. It was a welcome hour's remarkably sunny interlude in a day otherwise spent hunting for lost keys of various types, (a tale with which I will not bore you, other than to say it was frustrating and climaxed in me shouting at a neighbour's child until he returned the roof-rack straps he had nicked from under my very nose! Tch, the youth of today...)

Back to the surf. It was at Pease Bay and it was good - long intervals and not too ginormous. Hard to get out due to complete lack of upper body fitness and I only caught one wave but it was just good to be bobbing up and down on the water again. Al pulled the muscle in his back he always pulls when surfing and I pulled my wrist as I always do when surfing - it was almost nostalgic after all those running injuries had made me forget the many other ways there are to crock myself. Al won though, by dropping a board on his head back in Leith while putting it away in the shed and getting a perfect fin-stick injury in the exact middle of his forehead - whilst dressed in full motorbike gear. For some reason he was not impressed by my observation that he should have kept the helmet on.