Waste

I like to exercise four times a week: two swims and two runs. It may not sound like an excessive amount but it can be pretty tricky fitting it in, particularly the longer weekend run, especially now it's getting darker earlier.

I knew that I had to run today and I also knew I had a small window in which to do it; between work and Abi's parents' evening. Last night I took a look at the weather forecast - it's been great for running the last couple of months - only to see the rain symbol. Drilling down, I found that in the afternoon, I should expect one or two "soaking showers". That's not a phrase I've seen on my weather app before!

Anyway, it turned out nice, today, and I was looking forward to getting out but then, just as I was leaving work, it started to spit. By the time I was halfway home, the windscreen wipers were on and when I got back to Kirkby Lonsdale, I had to make a dash from the market square to the cottage.

I don't mind if it starts raining when I'm out running, once my metabolism has grasped what we're up to and turned me into the Ready Brek kid, but going out into the pouring rain is a different matter. If I hadn't been so constrained by the evening's schedule, I'm not sure how I'd have got myself out of the door.

The rain was heavy and, unsurprisingly, cold. I was soaked through before I'd made it even a hundred yards from the cottage. Heading down to Devil's Bridge, I took pathetic shelter by running under the steadily dripping trees, glumly looking ahead to the open expanse across and on the far side of the bridge.

It's a steep climb up to Casterton, which did serve to warm me up and, from then on, I rather enjoyed the run. The rain kept me cool and I was able to do my round in reasonable time. The hot shower afterwards was a delight, though.

All of which has nothing to do with today's photo. After the parents' evening (which went very well), I had to drive to Lancaster to pick up a client for a meeting. I'm not a fan of evening or weekend meetings but this one was apparently necessary. (It wasn't; Skype or the electric telephone would have sufficed.) Anyway, when I pulled up to collect the client, I saw this ahead of me. I think it chimed partly because of how it looked in the headlights but mostly because recently I've been having one of my periodic stresses about how much rubbish I seem to generate. This is always apparent to me from the pile of recycling in the kitchen, which has, once again, reached monumental proportions.

PS I'm sure this company - Think Pink - used to have skips that were actually pink. I preferred that.