I’ve Been Running In The Rain Just To Get Wet On Purpose.
Day 7 of Juneathon and another one of those awful ‘I can’t be arsed moving let alone running’ days.
I felt even worse after ringing the dole office to sign on. The employees there sound lobotomised.
Anyway I went out to do only a 5k as I have a pain in my knee from running 14 miles yesterday.
I can’t remember what wound me up at the time but around the 2.5 mile mark I felt an intense amount of hatred that coursed through every molecule in my system and inspired a 5.99 mile run.
I’ve no idea where all of this hatred comes from. It’s partly to do with my hate of this country and the weather. Then again, the country and I are beautifully matched.
We’re both grey, miserable, windy motherfuckers.
I’m just having a bad day I think. I always blame the country when I feel bad, when I should really be blaming myself. But by fuck, this country gave birth to me. Therefore it is fucking responsible.
Well that’s not true.
I can’t be bothered with writing about running at the minute. Sometimes I think people invent things like interval training and speedwork just so that they have something to talk about when it comes to distance running.
Otherwise you can only rephrase ‘I put one foot in front of the other for 13 fucking miles, Dave.’ in so many ways.
I do love running but only because it’s such a simple pastime. When people mention hill work or running around the Penines with a grand piano strapped to their back I just think ‘Shit. I must be missing out on something here.’