Running A Half Marathon Today Through Hertfordshire And Feeling Content With Myself.
I ran a half marathon today between Ware and Enfield Lock and it was good although I really wanted to go further.
I stopped just outside the Tesco Express in Enfield Village and bought a 1.5l bottle of water that I drank in 2 gulps outside. When it was gone, I walked straight back in for another drink and almost vomited the water back up again in the Frozen Foods aisle.
Luckily when I got out, I didn’t puke but I let out a fucking exceptional burp.
I walked to Brimsdown train station with a bit of swagger about my ass. I trudged through the industrial estate for about an hour. It’s definitely the ugly twin-sister of Duncrue Industrial Estate, Belfast.
I felt at home.
I called into McDonalds for a regular Strawberry Milkshake and a large portion of fries. It was the usual ugly scene of people crying and shouting everywhere.
That was just me. No-one took my order for 10 fucking minutes.
I got to Brimsdown station and was confronted by a gang of arseholes at the ticket machine. They were all wearing suits and drinking Stella Artois so going by universal law I surmised they were absolute fucking cunts.
All 8 of them bought ‘child’ tickets to Tottenham Hale. They were boasting to each other about their drug purchasing power yet they couldn’t even ‘afford’ an £3.80 adult ticket.
The drunkest one of them turned around and asked “what’re you here for then, yeah?”.
When I came over here I assumed that all Londoners would be like this. The sad truth is that most people here are infuriatingly polite, just like back home in Northern Ireland.
That old timeless adage certainly rings true.
There are fucking cunts wherever you live. Most non-cunts stay indoors trying to avoid the cunts.
Running isn’t much fun at the moment.
Munich was an absolute pain in the arse, as was my run yesterday before work. I started out at an 8:30 minute/mile pace and it felt really easy but towards the end I faded so much. I stopped at Northumberland Park and was late for work as I walked the last mile home.
For the first time in a while I’m worried about my stamina. Until this year I could always rely on my endurance even if my speed was shitty.
Now my confidence has slipped over longer distances to the point where I fucking hate long runs.
When you’re running faster you aren’t dogged so much by doubts and negative self talk. You’re too busy trying to stop your lungs from exploding to think about anything else.
On my run today all of my worries just came to a head and it was just awful.
When it comes to running I need to be having fun otherwise it’s just pointless.
That’s why in Dublin I’m aiming for a personal best and not exclusively an under 4 hour time.
I want to have fun and I need to remain sane. There’s so much going on at the moment that I need to take a step back and just try to enjoy it all.