Oh dear. Only 8 days in and I’ve (sort of) failed.
By my own rules anyway.
Tonight I was all geared up for my return to Roller Derby practice. I got kitted up, I went to practice, and then I stood in a corridor for 45 minutes outside a locked door which meant we couldn’t get into our practice space.
Many elaborate methods of gaining entry were discussed. Absailing down from the viewing gallery, picking the locks with hair pins, “accidentally” smashing some glass. But suffice to say the only practical one was getting hold of the out of hours care taker to open the door, and when that failed a call for “pub” went out, and so this happened.
Technically by the real rules of Janathon I actually didn’t fail today. I did half an hour of yoga this afternoon, which was much needed by my aching muscles. I also did a flying angel in the corridor of our practice space, which I haven’t done for about 20 years, so I reckon that definitely counts as exercise.
Anyway, in order not to break with the format of my Janathon posts, heres what the floor of the Brickmakers Arms round the corner from our practice space looks.
I learnt lots today though. I learnt that Slim Slainey does the best Peacock impression in Norfolk, and that Cat O’Gore Eyes does a great crying elbow baby, and that HellLucyNations can turn her elbows inside out and that that the female equivalent of a cockblock is a twotblock, apparently. So I can’t write the whole day off.
And here’s what a load of Derby girls look like when they can’t play Roller Derby but instead absolutely *have* to go the pub and drink beer.
Tomorrow. We run.