Angry Jogger On Ice
Went running up in the hills yesterday.
There was ice. I hate ice almost as much as I hate running in the fucking mud in the dark.
I slipped and did my little Bambi on ice twinkle-toes impersonation. I could feel my arsehole opening up. I was waiting to fall. But it didn’t happen .
I turned back and ran the way I came along Paisley Road, Councillors Road and Woodburn Road. Woodburn Road is a steep bastard. It’s locally known as that bastard humpback bridge road. It didn’t really have much ice on it but as I came to the steepest part of the road I began to panic.
I get this awful vertigo at times. It comes from having shitty balance and being a general scaredy-cat. Since there is no pavement on any of these country roads I was having to stay as close in as possible to the verge but since there was ice there I ended up running away from it into the centre of the road.
I could picture myself sliding into traffic on my arse. Caught in the headlights with my miners lamp on. Dead.
I was clip-clopping down the road like a fat horse on Valium trying my best to remain upright.
It took me almost 9 minutes to run a kilometre. That kilometre featured a vertical drop of 80 metres. Your mam could have went down it quicker on her hole.
I’ve been doing lots of hills recently and I’ve enjoyed it. There are no hills in London outside Highgate and Sydenham Hill so I’m doing as many of them as I can whilst I’m still here.
I’m now on 4917km for the year with only 5 days left.