Homes under the hammer was on, I've got some bacon in the fridge, I didn't have to be anywhere till 4, so there was no need for me to run.
Oh, except a marathon in April, a marathon that I've told people I'll run in under 3 hours! (Dad, you f***ing liar!!!)
So I had a stretch, and set off.
Today's run taught me that my mental state will be as crucial as my fitness. Not wanting to run made this one of the hardest runs I've done for a while. I just couldn't get into a rhythm.
It was a bit like being a girl who's been in a relationship for a while, who's boyfriend is pestering her for sex, and she thinks to herself
"Well, it'll only be 20 - 30 mins, I'll just get through it and let him carry on"
But as it goes on she starts thinking,
"Well he's making the effort, he's going at a nice speed, he's not rushing it, he's ticking the boxes, and going the long way round"
And so eventually the girl gets into it and then thinks,
"right, I could actually enjoy this now, yeah I am, let's take this to the next level"
And she looks up and the boyfriend says,
"yeah, I've finished by the way"
wipes his cock on the curtains and goes to sleep.
That's what today's run felt like.
I saw a women sitting in the park with a paralyzed man next to her in a wheelchair. She's was having a right laugh on her mobile, rocking back and forth, and waving her arms like she's was at a Chris Rock show. And as I ran past I looked at the geezer in his chair and thought that the guy must be thinking,
"love, Cash in the attic is on, I'm freezing, why have you dressed me in this stupid hat and dragged me out here? Will you hurry up and take me home? I'm going to have you sacked when I get indoors"
Thursday 25 February 2010
Tuesday 23 February 2010
I'm a spitting runner, and I hate it.
Having a cold this week hasn't helped but when I run I produce a lot of spit or mucus, and I have to spit it out. If I swallow it I feel sick and my breathing goes, and by the time I get home I feel full and can't eat my tea.
Even when I'm not running I sometimes need to clear my sinuses, I hate it as it's a disgusting habit and not pleasant to see, but I do try to aim for drains or spit in the road, away from other people. It's the least I can do.
Now, running in the park allows for a free spirited attitude to spitting, you've got loads of space, there's grass, bushes, and even behind trees. Running through town however is a problem, and last night it proved to be a bigger problem than I'd ever anticipated.
I was running as close to the road as I could so that I could 'drop bombs' straight into it. The weather was pretty bad and as I ran across the junction outside Holborn police station, straight past a load of people waiting to cross, I spat out something that can only be described as 'horrible' into the road. It was at this exact moment that the wind blew up hard across the junction, caught my 'ball of slimy death', flicked it straight up, over my head, behind me and.......
well I didn't hang around to find out! I got my head down and ran very quickly away from the scene.
As the shame and self loathing slowly bubbled away inside me I didn't think about much else, apart from how I might not run that route again for a while.
Even when I'm not running I sometimes need to clear my sinuses, I hate it as it's a disgusting habit and not pleasant to see, but I do try to aim for drains or spit in the road, away from other people. It's the least I can do.
Now, running in the park allows for a free spirited attitude to spitting, you've got loads of space, there's grass, bushes, and even behind trees. Running through town however is a problem, and last night it proved to be a bigger problem than I'd ever anticipated.
I was running as close to the road as I could so that I could 'drop bombs' straight into it. The weather was pretty bad and as I ran across the junction outside Holborn police station, straight past a load of people waiting to cross, I spat out something that can only be described as 'horrible' into the road. It was at this exact moment that the wind blew up hard across the junction, caught my 'ball of slimy death', flicked it straight up, over my head, behind me and.......
well I didn't hang around to find out! I got my head down and ran very quickly away from the scene.
As the shame and self loathing slowly bubbled away inside me I didn't think about much else, apart from how I might not run that route again for a while.
Thursday 18 February 2010
The instinctive shame I feel when I rub vaseline into my crotch, and other musings
Last time I ran over 10 miles my legs hurt, but nowhere near as much as the burning on my inner thighs, around by the little chap. It was like having acid pored onto them. I'm guessing that bit but trust me it was total agony for 2 days.
Anyway now I'm jellying up, but as I rubbed the vaseline into my 'areas' I felt seedy and dirty, like I was preparing to be dealt with by a massive geezer, or a sexually adventurous women. Either option wasn't filling my with good running thoughts so I packed it in and set off.
It reminded me of when I had to deliver some food to a massage palour that was over the road from this cafe I used to DJ in (cafe Calcio as I remember). As the chef and I who walked in there this absolute horror was sitting on a settee rubbing stuff into her 'bits', I shuddered. My mate decided to tell them that it was my birthday (20th) and the grot look up and said,
"Get your Christmas money out then, and we can have some fun!"
I was going to tell her that I'd only been given a tenner off my Uncle David, but I realized that by the state of her I could have got the works and anal, so I shut up and ran off.
Today's plan was to run to Holborn, meet my mate, and run to his house with him through Regents park, and then up the canal.
We got to the park and it was shut, so we ran round it until we got to the canal.......that was shut, it felt like we'd gone on a massive detour, and we were still in the fucking park!
My mate's pace was starting to hurt me but I kept with him until we got to Caledonian rd, he went left and I carried on towards Angel.
My legs were screaming by this point and I'm not ashamed to say that I thought about stopping, but I didn't, and I ran all the way back.
I worked it out as 15 miles, but my mate corrected me and it turned out to be 13.4
My legs are still screaming but my crotch is serene and peaceful.
Anyway now I'm jellying up, but as I rubbed the vaseline into my 'areas' I felt seedy and dirty, like I was preparing to be dealt with by a massive geezer, or a sexually adventurous women. Either option wasn't filling my with good running thoughts so I packed it in and set off.
It reminded me of when I had to deliver some food to a massage palour that was over the road from this cafe I used to DJ in (cafe Calcio as I remember). As the chef and I who walked in there this absolute horror was sitting on a settee rubbing stuff into her 'bits', I shuddered. My mate decided to tell them that it was my birthday (20th) and the grot look up and said,
"Get your Christmas money out then, and we can have some fun!"
I was going to tell her that I'd only been given a tenner off my Uncle David, but I realized that by the state of her I could have got the works and anal, so I shut up and ran off.
Today's plan was to run to Holborn, meet my mate, and run to his house with him through Regents park, and then up the canal.
We got to the park and it was shut, so we ran round it until we got to the canal.......that was shut, it felt like we'd gone on a massive detour, and we were still in the fucking park!
My mate's pace was starting to hurt me but I kept with him until we got to Caledonian rd, he went left and I carried on towards Angel.
My legs were screaming by this point and I'm not ashamed to say that I thought about stopping, but I didn't, and I ran all the way back.
I worked it out as 15 miles, but my mate corrected me and it turned out to be 13.4
My legs are still screaming but my crotch is serene and peaceful.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
Last night and the fat cake eater
I ran home from work, which is fine but you will have to pass some pedestrians, luckily the weather was so appalling that there weren't many people on the pavements.
The first thing that happened that did my head in was the accidental racing against a 55 bus as it crawled down the road.
The bus wasn't the problem, the fat women sitting on the bus became the centre point of my fury. I knew she was fat because:
a. She was eating a cake with the a joyous look on her face, usually seen on the faces of stroke victims who get their hearing or eyesight back after the stroke
b. Her fat little fingers had more rings of fat on them than an old tree that's been cut in half and you can see how long it's been growing.
Now fatty was staring at me like I was some sort of weirdo, dressed in reflective lycra, out to steal her cake. the look on her face was like,
"why you doin that for?"
And I wanted to shout through the window,
"so I don't look like you, you massive bitch"
Eventually the bus passed me and I slowly calmed down and ran the rest of the way without much concern.
There's loads of people out running though........you'd think there was a race coming up!
The first thing that happened that did my head in was the accidental racing against a 55 bus as it crawled down the road.
The bus wasn't the problem, the fat women sitting on the bus became the centre point of my fury. I knew she was fat because:
a. She was eating a cake with the a joyous look on her face, usually seen on the faces of stroke victims who get their hearing or eyesight back after the stroke
b. Her fat little fingers had more rings of fat on them than an old tree that's been cut in half and you can see how long it's been growing.
Now fatty was staring at me like I was some sort of weirdo, dressed in reflective lycra, out to steal her cake. the look on her face was like,
"why you doin that for?"
And I wanted to shout through the window,
"so I don't look like you, you massive bitch"
Eventually the bus passed me and I slowly calmed down and ran the rest of the way without much concern.
There's loads of people out running though........you'd think there was a race coming up!
Monday 15 February 2010
The music I listen to
Now while I think a lot when I run, I need some music to propel me forward.
Mostly I listen to house but I've been getting bored with the 3 mix albums on my nano, so tried mixing up the genres, with mixed results.
Live drum and bass mixes. It's got the right energy to will me forward, but listening to MC Eksman always asking for the sound engineer to turn up the mic in his monitor drives me up the wall. and I like to listen to music loud, so someone shouting a lot isn't going to work.
Indie. A non starter really, it just doesn't push me.
I'm going to stick to 4/4 for now but the longer distances make me think that I'll just start of with some liquid drum and bass, move on to house, and finish with some ear bleeding techno. I reckon that will keep me going
Mostly I listen to house but I've been getting bored with the 3 mix albums on my nano, so tried mixing up the genres, with mixed results.
Live drum and bass mixes. It's got the right energy to will me forward, but listening to MC Eksman always asking for the sound engineer to turn up the mic in his monitor drives me up the wall. and I like to listen to music loud, so someone shouting a lot isn't going to work.
Indie. A non starter really, it just doesn't push me.
I'm going to stick to 4/4 for now but the longer distances make me think that I'll just start of with some liquid drum and bass, move on to house, and finish with some ear bleeding techno. I reckon that will keep me going
Why am I running?
I'm running because I foolishly decided to run the London Marathon.
Why did I do this? Well 2 things.
1. I met a man who ran it in 2008, in fact I met him as he walked back through Carnaby after the race. He'd done it in a decent time, and he wasn't dead. Actually, he looked fine and proud, and as I stood next to him talking I realized that I wanted that sort of experience.
2. My Dad claims that he ran it in 2.58, which is basically an amazing time. Such a good time in fact that I know believe him to be a liar. A good dad, but a liar all the same. He's run 6-7 by now (he's 65, he did the 2.58 when he was 30) which, coincidentally was the same age as me when I decided to run.
There's loads of other reasons why I decided to run but they would need loads of psychoanalysis and I'm not going down that road.
And this blog won't be about my inner turmoil about the reasons behind the run, this will just be the immediate thoughts as I run around.
It'll be fairly light hearted, hopefully amusing, and quite interesting.
but it won't be boring,
much.
the Running Man
Why did I do this? Well 2 things.
1. I met a man who ran it in 2008, in fact I met him as he walked back through Carnaby after the race. He'd done it in a decent time, and he wasn't dead. Actually, he looked fine and proud, and as I stood next to him talking I realized that I wanted that sort of experience.
2. My Dad claims that he ran it in 2.58, which is basically an amazing time. Such a good time in fact that I know believe him to be a liar. A good dad, but a liar all the same. He's run 6-7 by now (he's 65, he did the 2.58 when he was 30) which, coincidentally was the same age as me when I decided to run.
There's loads of other reasons why I decided to run but they would need loads of psychoanalysis and I'm not going down that road.
And this blog won't be about my inner turmoil about the reasons behind the run, this will just be the immediate thoughts as I run around.
It'll be fairly light hearted, hopefully amusing, and quite interesting.
but it won't be boring,
much.
the Running Man
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