I Will Run From Land’s End To John O’Groats Next Year
I’ve mentioned it before in passing but next year I really want to run from Land’s End to John O’Groats.
A marathon is an arbitrary distance. Running from the southerly most part of the UK to the northerly most part is arbitrary too but there’s a sense of adventure in it that compels me.
I want to see how many Airbnb’s I can destroy along the way like a doss millennial cunt’s answer to Keith Moon.
I am gonna get another freelance contract after my current one ends in February and just head off to Land’s End late spring, early summer . Pack light and run with the rucksack I used for Europe.
No time limits. Get outside and be free for a bit. Life is too short. I want to see more of England, Scotland and Wales than just the capital cities. I know I can complete the challenge.
Slow running blues.
I was running home slowly last night from work and a group of young hoodlums brought up my speed to me. “Boss you’re jogging really slow’. Yes. Good observation general. You’re only bringing my jogging up as you have nothing else to talk about with your mates and you have to resort to commenting on me to drown out the incessant craving that you want the Alpha male’s D.
I didn’t say anything to them. They were bored. They wanted some fun. I jog slowly and oddly. I was trying t0 get home. I got home. I had a shit. Then I woke up. Then….
Fuck me I really hate writing. It’s fucking horrible.