In the current Otter Series the scorecard has been marked up as 3:1 to the Otter, although the last defeat was frankly mechanical.
This Sundays race against Cancer (although apparently marathon running actually gives you cancer), presents another opportunity to save face.
The Otter has undergone gait analysis with some woman and will be pre-occupied with whether his pelvis is going forwards when it should be going backwards, or vice-versa and just how much damage, permanent and otherwise the act of running will be doing.
Junior is coming along, although without any training whatsover should be down with the fat ladies.
With the perfect physique for running I should be well ahead...
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If you really want to make it interesting, how about a Mexican meal on Saturday night?
It's a thought.
Then there's the question of Ladbrokes...
95pence a second I hear, or was it minute?
Ok, ok, a pound a minute, barring any mechanical or bio-mechanical breakdowns.
Or if I'm still ill.
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