Finally I decided today was the day I run. Not run as in Forrest Gump running mind you, we’re only talking about a light run/jog and then walk when my heart bursts through my chest.
Having not done much exercise in the past couple of years (unless lifting a pen at my desk is classed as exercise?), I thought I’d venture out earlyish on a Saturday morning when not many people would be about to mock me and my soon to be tomato coloured, sweating face.
Half way around my route I spotted a group of people in the distance on this long straight road I was going to run up. I didn’t have my contacts in, so I couldn’t really tell who they were – but presumed it was the local scallywag ninja’s out in force already. Being a self conscious bastard I decided I had to run all the way…no stopping, because then this group of scallies would just laugh at me for being unfit.
I was doing alright until I approached them. It was then I realised it was worse than the local ninja’s. It was a group of Irish girls who had either just arrived in the city for the weekend, or had not yet been to bed. Either way, they were an excitable gaggle and 2 of them decided to run alongside me shouting motivational phrases at me:
“1-2-3-4…..come on faster….you can do it….1-2-3-4!”
the rest of them stood in fits of laughter. Grreaaat. The first time I’ve ever been out for a run and this happens – only me! Thankfully my heart didn’t embarrass me, burst though my chest and shower them with blood, but I did manage to miraculously gasp for breath and laugh at the same time. Their burst of energy didn’t last long though and I managed to get to the end of the road before turning the corner and then dying through exhaustion.
I thoroughly expect a man in an emu costume to join me next time.