An Excellent 16 Mile Run Around Walthamstow On The Day After I Accidentally Flooded A Kitchen In My New Houseshare.
So for the 10th time in my 4 months in London I’ve shifted houses once again.
I moved into a new Airbnb on Thursday night and in my usual spectacular style, I alienated myself from my housemates within 12 hours of check-in.
I went out on my first night and completed 7.5 miles around Tottenham Hale and Blackhorse Road. It wasn’t a spectacular run by any means apart from the last half mile when a dog ran at me growling and I upped my pace to a steady 7:30 minute/mile out of anger at the stupid cunt owner.
That was my first run in absolutely ages that I ran a sub 9 minute mile. The run finished on a 9:22 minute/mile average. All good.
A good first impression
I wanted to make the best first impression I could with my new housemates by trying to nip any runner odour problems in the bud
So I spent 20 minutes in the shower the next morning. All was well until I heard loud knocking on the door.
“Oh fuck. There isn’t a fire downstairs is there?” thought I.
No. Before I jumped into the shower I flipped the heater switch. Instead of warming up the shower it had activated a shower head that was extremely close to the ground.
I didn’t see it at the time.
For the 20 minutes I was in getting washed it was pouring out water and it leaked down through the floor into the kitchen.
It had also saturated the only clean clothes that I had with me for the night. Luckily for me it was 25C outside and they dried out soon enough whilst I was out and about in London on Friday.
But fucking hell man!
Within 12 hours not only had I flooded the kitchen of my new house, but I’d also accidentally flashed my balls to the landlord.
When he came in to explain exactly what was happening in the kitchen, I had no time to put my soaking wet clothes on and my balls were swinging away like the Sixties.
True fucking styling, don’t you think?
Today was a little better.
I went out on a jog around Walthamstow with no expectations. I’d spent Friday night getting drunk as hell to try to cheer myself up about floodgate. I just didn’t wanna go back to the house.
I struggle to maintain conversation with strangers let alone with grown men who have just seen my ballsack.
Anyway, my aim today was to just keep running until my legs gave up. 10 miles would be an absolute victory.
My longest run last week was 9.2 miles and even that hurt like hell.
I kept it going for 16 miles.
It wasn’t my strongest ever run but considering it’s only 3 weeks since the 100k I’m delighted that I’m still able to run decent distances.
It’s only week 2 of marathon training and I’m off to a great start. If I can somehow keep myself away from awful junk food and stop myself from getting arrested for accidentally exposing myself to my betters, then life will be brilliant again.
In theory anyway.