words cannot describe...

...how tasty my perfect* post-run drink is:

• Half a pint (or so) of milk (any fat level, or soya if you are my brother)
• A banana (the riper the better)
• Tablespoon of smooth peanut butter
• Cocoa powder mixed with a couple of teaspoons of boiling water
• Maybe some runny honey

Wuzz the ingredients together in a blender (or with a hand-held wuzzer). It will be sweet enough if the banana is good and ripe, or if you use that peanut butter with sugar in (skippy or sun-pat). If not, chuck in a squirt of runny honey.

This is a perfectly nutritionally balanced drink for after a long run. Well, maybe... I've not really looked into this fact, I just kind of base it upon some cockeyed notion that you are supposed to tuck away a bit of protein after you've been running. And I think there might be protein in peanuts and milk. Or maybe not. Please do not disabuse me of this idea, though, as I have no intention of giving up this wondrous nectar even if you tell me it is unhealthy.

*caveat: if you don't like peanut butter, or bananas, or milk for that matter, you may disagree with my definition of perfection. I like all of these things, though. And even more so when they are mixed together.

When you're tired of Derby, you're tired of....

... late night misery (in my experience).

I'm staying in a serviced apartment at the moment. Last night, at 2am, the land line in the apartment rang.

It was a man shouting "you're a fookin' grass" in a strong local accent. I presume he had the wrong number (since I don't think I've grassed anyone up recently - well, certainly nobody northern at any rate. And in any event, who would know what my phone number is here? ), although given that he'd just woken me up, I lacked the presence of mind to ask him who he thought he had called.

This was most disconcerting, though. I unplugged the phone by my bed, only to then discover, when it started ringing, that there was another phone somewhere else in the flat (which I wasn't about to get out of bed and go looking for). Fortunately after three calls he gave up. Maybe he realised he'd dialled the wrong number. I bet he felt a bit stupid then. Yeah.

This is the second similar incident since I've been here (ok, so that's four months now, but even so it's a pretty high rate of late night disturbance). The first incident was someone repeatedly buzzing the intercom to the flat to be let in at 1am one night in December.

They're weird up here, you know.

Ouch

GB rang me today especially to tell me about a man who jumped out of the bedroom window of an address he was visiting (possibly whilst stoned/drunk/both) and broke all the bones in both his heels.

The very thought of this made me curl up small in my chair and squirm.

Yoghurt fountain

Hands up who likes Innocent(TM) Smoothies?

I left one of the yoghurt thickies on my desk at work yesterday, next to my computer. Which blew hot air over it all day from the cooling fan.

This answered a fascinating scientific question: how much pressure can the fermentation process generate in a sealed container?

Answer: Quite a lot - the (now rather smelly) yoghurt blew the lid off the bottle, fountained two foot into the air, liberally coated the underside of the shelf above my desk and sprayed down in an elegant and sticky display all over my laptop, PC, desk, phone, face, hair, chair and brand new coat. Which I was only wearing at my desk cos the room is perishing cold. Oh, the irony! (i.e. the fact that the only source of heat in the room caused the disaster that ruined the coat that was only being worn because the room was so cold - is that ironic? Or just a bummer? I've always been confused by the difference, ever since that song)

(Kids: this experiment was carried out by experts under strictly controlled conditions. Don't try this at home!)

Running and chips

I went along to Long Eaton running club last night - one of the girls I am working with in Derby is a regular runner with them.

I arrived late and got changed in lightning quick time, but as I came out of the changing rooms they all took off like rabbits. I was left with no clue as to the route, in the dark, in an unfamiliar town. This meant that fear of getting lost motivated me to stick to the back markers of the running pack and thereby achieve my fastest ever 10k time, shaving a whole minute off my previous best.

Another point of note is that the running club is opposite a legendary (and award-winning) chippie. After this great sporting achievement, it would have been wrong to deny myself really, wouldn't it?