Ain't nobody here but us chickens

Stayed late at work just so I could have this ceiling to myself.
Came dangerously close to starvation but was saved by the tin of Quality Street that Chris had brought in for his birthday. The leftovers were mostly Orange Cremes but, like our hunter-gatherer ancestors, I have learned not to be fussy. I am practically Ray Mears.

Lovely, sunny run at lunchtime with some sprints mixed into a long run. And then an icy blast home in the sportster.