Old habits die hard

So, here I am still in Montenegro and nearing the end of Day 4 of my resurgence as a genuine world class athlete. This is the life - proper warm weather training!

We're staying in a place called Przno - so God help me if I ever get lost cos I haven't a clue how to pronounce it. I did have one bash at explaining where I was staying to a pretty filly I met in a beachside bar but succeeded only in covering her in spittle!

I arrived in Przno in the early hours of Saturday morning after a three hour flight and a three hour road journey from Dubrovnik which involved crossing the Croatia/Montenegro border. Now, I don't want to reopen old wounds here - but it ain't five mintes since these two states were all part of the same blessed country. Now I know they had a bit of a slapping fest a few years ago - but you'd think they'd give something up for the sake of good neighbourlyness wouldn't you?

Przno - our base in Montenegro.
Not a bit of it.

A queue as long as the Adriatic just to cross the border with forms and God knows what else needed. And then when you get here - its like a pre-Cold War state beurocracy. Not one public servant we've encountered is able or willing to break into a smile. A four mile stetch of beach and surrounds is out of bounds cos some Government Numpty is having his hols in the place! It is! It's just like an old fashioned commy state!

That said it's a lovely place and I've managed to do a morning training run each day - and I think my fame must have travelled. I certainly attracted a knowing, knowledgeable and animated crowd outside the local Taverna when I performed my well known programme of anal crunches and pelvic thrusts! They got so excited that even the local plod turned up to have a word with me too - I presumed they just wanted my autograph and I happily signed a few bits of paper thrust in front of me.

Sveti Stefan - our training run visits this pretty little island.

The problem with these short (5K-ish) runs is that we're staying in the bottom of a valley - so no matter which way I run I'm faced with a road that feels like I'm attempting the North Face of the Eiger! Still I have at least managed to get myself out - and I intend to do so for next 11 or so days too.

Today was rather botched somewhat though - we'll have to call it a non-day. The Half Share in the House decided to run with me rather than cook breakfast and pack my beach bag. And wasn't that just a fine and dandy thing to do?

You see there's usually a crowd of chaps watch me and on the previous three days as I've run past they've whistled their appreciation at my running style - and being that sort of a guy I usually wave back and acknowledge their support. Anyway, it turns out they were'nt a hunch of chaps - it was a collection of WOMEN!! I thought the hairy arms and upper lips were restricted to those of a masculine persuaion - but not here! Anyway, the Half Share being a jealous type, and on hearing these females having a toot at your man here - only turns round and aims a size 8 Timpson in their general direction, misses and falls flat on her face.

Now this could have been funny - but believe me I've been in her debt long enough to know when something is funny. And this was not an occasion to laugh.

The bottom line is that we've spent three hours this afternoon in a Montenegran hospital whilst she had a stitch put in a rather nasty cut - and it cost me 52 euros for the privelege! Thank God I didn't want my socks darned that's all I can say!. She's also a bit bruised and shaken by the whole affair - so I've told her to leave the washing up till the cleaner comes in on Friday.

Mind you, the bruises will mend - but the absence of alcohol for five days until she finishes her antbiotics are deffo not for chuckling at.

Hopefully thngs will turn northwards tomorrow - I'm due to do my first 10K training run for weeks. In 32 degree heat too!

I'll let you know how I get on.

Keep on tapering.

Ron