Only Managed A 14.7 Mile Long Run This Week & A Little Bit About My Usual Post Run Antics.
This week has been a really poor one for running, exercise and health largely because of my move across London. Here’s hoping that I get settled very quickly in this area so that I can build my mileage back up.
It hasn’t all been bad though!
A 14.7 mile run on Saturday
Yesterday I went out and ran my first long run in Dulwich. It was a 14.7 miler around Crystal Palace and Dulwich Park.
It was an enjoyable apart from encountering a dog that was off it’s lead on my second lap of Crystal Palace Park. I honestly thought it was gonna fucking bite me so I squirted some of my water into it’s ugly face.
I wanted to scream “WOOF YOU CUNT!” at it as a final insult to it and it’s bitch of a mother, but I’m worried that I’m gonna take a beating soon if I keep this aggression up.
I fled the park like a pussy after this nasty encounter which was a pity as it’s quite beautiful around there on a sunny day.
Post run fun.
After my long run I had a half hour long shower. It was glorious but I was so dehydrated that I started drinking the water straight from the head.
Once out of the shower I couldn’t handle the thirst anymore so immediately knocked back two Monster Rehab teas in just over a minute. My hydration regime is as bad as my diet as you might have guessed.
Then as per usual on a Saturday night I took the train into London Victoria, bought a Cookie Crunch Krispy Creme Donut in the station and walked into the city centre along Victoria Street and past the Houses of Parliament.
I hung around Big Ben until it struck 7.
It’s pretty fucking haunting.
From there I went up Whitehall, The Strand and Trafalgar Square before stopping up at Chipotle for a dinner that consisted of a beef bowl and a Margarita.
It was delicious but I might have drank the Margarita a little too quickly. I was still thirsty as hell after the long run.
From there it was into McDonalds for a delicious Creme Egg McFlurry to cool my tongue from all the spicy food.
The rest of the night was quite calm. In my 20’s a night on the town would have ended with me drinking 10 pints of beer and vomiting afterwards.
Nowadays I enjoy taking things easier with 2 or 3 pints over the course of a night. Maybe I’m becoming a boring cunt? I dunno. But I’m happier this way.
I’d rather enjoy the city and not feel like death in the morning.
The truth is that I have changed so much in 3 years. I can’t keep track of myself.
I do have moments where I stop and think “I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore!”
And it’s true. I don’t fucking know.
But you know what? I probably never really have known who I am.
Ultimately you are who other people tell you you are, but who are they?
All I know is that I fell out of some sort of hole in 1984 and I’ve been existing ever since then.
I have a name, a reflection and compulsions but none of them really mean anything to me. All just stats and happenstance.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I started running to try to help find out who I am and now I’m further than ever from an answer.
But I’ll be your Mother if you call strap a bra on me and call me Kevin.