So, having eaten too much this weekend and with the prospect of a family birthday tomorrow and it being Pancake Day tomorrow, I got up and went for a run around the park.
This was approached with some trepidation on account of my concerns about my lack of fitness. When we were walking up Steep Hill in Lincoln yesterday I still felt pretty much out of puff by the time we got to the top of the hill. It is possible, I suppose, that if I had been 6 stone heavier I may not even have made it up to the top of the hill without having to stop for a sit down at one of the many cafes which lined the street, but I still didn't feel that I was as fit as I really ought to be. Even though, in the controlled circumstances of the gym, I can jog for 35 minutes without stopping at approximately 8.6km/h (approximately).
How was a run in the park going to go?
Well, togged up in my warm hat, jogging pants (in this context I am prepared to use that word but I don't want you to think I have a special pair of underpants in which I go jogging, but jogging trousers sounds wrong), snow gloves and with my I-phone playing a bit of Tom Baker's Dr Who in my earholes, I went out into the misty morning.
And I went all the way round the lake in the park without stopping! Not all the way round the park, which was my original plan, but still a good twenty minutes of jogging.
I felt pretty good.
And then I made a chocolate birthday cake. It is still in the oven as we speak, despite having already been in the oven longer than it's allotted time. It has been out of the oven once, and looked like this...
...which isn't too bad looking, bit of a crack in the middle. I left it to cool in the tin for 10 minutes and then turned it out onto a wire rack.
As I peeled back the baking parchment on the bottom of the cake it became apparent that it was quite substantially uncooked. Which made me despair! And wail and gnash my teeth.
"Do you think I could reinsert it into the tin and cook it for longer?" I asked Denise. And then gave it a go. Luckily it did go back in the tin and it has now been in the oven, at a higher temperature, for another twenty minutes.
I really need to stop following the rules. I am such a sheep. I insist on following recipes, following orders. I need to rebel!
My next cake will work. It will be a rebel's cake...