Circa 1990. Graham ‘Bumble’ Lloyd, son of David ‘Bumble’ Lloyd, flew off the back of the newly-installed treadmill after an oversized lunch, convinced he’d scaled the hump.
Laurie Brown, Lancashire’s ever-vigilant, frugal Scottish physio, had hoodwinked us into an aftrenoon task that was hopelessly optimistic.
“Boys, it’s 12 minutes up th’ill, then 12 minutes down t’other side. Easy. ’Ard part is going up. Get to the hump and it’s downhill from there!”
Of course, on a treadmill you’re never running down. The mill always points north. It’s just degrees of uphill.
Brown stitched us up again. Bumble was the poor bugger who found out.
This is post #191. 365/2 is 183—John always insisted on rounding up! So we’re a few past the hump, with today being Wednesday, though, why not.
47,000 words down. Between 60K and 70K might the sweet spot for this book being written in plain sight. The maths says there should be approx 90K words to start the edits from—plenty of dross to re-dress or throw out, I’m sure.
Brown would be pleased. John would round up.
Nick
Happy hump day.
I met Graham as he had a few seasons here on the Sunshine Coast playing with my mates club Maroochydore