Lifetime ban lifted. With conditions.

My lifetime Janathon ban has been lifted. The wife, who sentenced me to the ban has, grudgingly and with some anxiety, allowed me to take part on the strict condition that I do not turn myself into a useless zombie. The second I start to look like an extra from Shaun of the Dead I will get hooked out, firmly slapped and probably chained to a large rock. Forever.

So I have promised to be a good boy. She - Sally - also said something about not getting competitive, but I was busy with running shoes and satellite reception by that point and wasn't really listening. But, joking aside, I am not in a mood to batter myself.

Today's trot was (not really) a recovery run after yesterday's shenanigans. The girls were all off to the city for a brunch I avoided because I was expecting to have some work to do late in the morning. I dropped them at the ferry and had a bit of time to kill. I did the run up to North Head (because one can never run up too many bloody hills) then a bit of the trail stuff down to Manly, the mile along the beach and then home. A couple of km more than I expected and the legs were a bit sore by the end. But I don't feel like the undead. So that's good.

The run-highlights were a close-up of a Channel Billed Cuckoo and nearly stepping on a Blue Tongued Lizard that was sunning itself on a trail on North Head. I've been trying for years to get a decent picture of a cuckoo and this one, seeing me with no camera, was posing in a tree no more than 30ft from where the end of my lens wasn't. All the best stuff comes out when you don't take a camera.

Another short post because, well, I have a fridge full of beer that isn't about to drink itself and the best way to deal with temptation is to yield. Back to work on Monday, so I'm still in holiday mode.

Oh, before I forget, I will be complaining about the following things over the coming days:

• Humidity. January and February are bastards in Sydney and I sweat like a racehorse.
• Hills. I live on a hill, to get anywhere I have to go up and down hills. Hills. Bloody hills.
• Stench. This is a consequence of humidity and sweating like a racehorse. My running gear mings.
• Shitloads of other stuff because I'm a grumpy old bastard.

Don't say you haven't been warned.

January Total - 51.6km