The Countdown has begun

Monday saw the beginning of my 12-week training plan - I ran a gentle 8 kilometers through the woods close to Claudia's cottage where I've been generally based for the past month. It was 27° and humid, but I always enjoy these runs through the woods. Something nearly always catches my eye. On Monday it was a pair of buzzards, sitting on a fallen tree on the edge of the woods, last week a pair of pheasants and a hare on the track in front of me. I also recently encountered a deer and for the first time saw a black woodpecker.

This evening the German national football team failed to make it to the final in the World Cup. Earlier this evening I went for a ten km run along the canal shortly before the match started. The cafes offering public viewing of the match were buzzing with fans sporting the black, red and gold of the German flag. Apart from a short spell as a Liverpool fan when I was ten years old I have never really been interested in football. Of course, I have a vague memory of the 1966 World Cup final - it took place on the day of our arrival at a caravan park in Bacton-on-Sea in Norfolk, where we had a family holiday. The treatment of football and the players by the media strikes me as a bit wierd to be honest, perhaps almost as wierd as the fact that so many people get so emotionally involved in what in the end is 'just a game'.

This afternoon I finally got along to the urologist and was given the all clear as far as my prostate is concerned. I couldn't help thinking what a strange job that is - it's a great thing that people are preapared to become urologists, but I can't imagine what drives someone to specialise in this particular field. Next week I'm off to the dermatologist and the radiologist for further routine check-ups for the over 50s.