I Am A Runner And Yes I Smell (Sometimes)
This morning at 7:30am I received this SMS from my new landlord.
Can you come down to the kitchen urgently Matt, we need to discuss something that is affecting all of the people in the house.
It struck fear into my heart. Had someone in the house taken ill overnight? Had I left the front door open?
It turns out that my sweat from running has been affecting everyone in the house like Agent Orange in ‘Nam.
My first reaction was utter shame and embarrassment. The landlord saw this and offered some support with “don’t worry about this Matt but what can we do about your sweat?”
I didn’t know how to respond. I was livid with myself and the whole fucking situation.
The first words out of my words were ‘Can I have my deposit back please?’
I could understand if I’d left the room or the house in a mess but I haven’t. In fact I’m hardly there at all and when I am here I’m tidy.
The fact is that the exchange made me very small. I was being talked down to like I was a fucking child. And the best way to wind me up is to patronise me.
‘Do you use deodorant Matt? ‘
‘ Yes but only as a sweetener for cake and to taser the ferrets that are fucking up your precious fucking lawn.’
I’ll be the first to admit my appearance at the minute is a little grotty. I’ve been wearing the same Primark suit jacket that has seen me through 2 months of nights out on the West End.
I am also trying to work a new schedule for my laundry since moving house.
That said I do shower at least once a day. If I run in the morning I scour all of my key areas with much vigour. So much vigour that I often make myself late for the train (which I have to run for in my grotty old Primark suit jacket making me even sweatier).
I was very down for most of today as I really loved living there for the first 5 nights.
I also felt hopeless and worthless.
But I can’t stay here if my musk is annoying people.
My action plan is as follows.
I will try to suppress my cock fumes as much as humanely possible over the next week and use Febreze on the wrinkles of my ball bag to air out any unwanted whiffs or pongs.
I will start searching again for a new place.
I will keep training for the 100k but at the moment the thought of it is killing any happiness that comes my way.
What I won’t do is stay down on myself. I will find somewhere more suitable to live and I will settle again.
I actually am starting to miss Tottenham now.