Oh man, I can't honestly say, at this point in time, that i enjoy it one little iota. Getting a sweat on is ok, in ones house, without an audience, and a towel with which to wipe ones brow, but in the wide open spaces, with dog walkers and pram pushers and...FUNERAL GOERS???
I always go on a little lane near me which has a couple of farmhouses and a church. I'm doing that app...the one couch to 5k. Pah. (Never gonna make it to 5 minutes at this rate.)
Thing is, I always think people will wonder what the whoopsies I'm doing, stop-starting all the time. I know, I know...it doesn't matter what people think, but you know what? It kind of does to me. Wrong but there you have it.
Oh, before I forget, I took this picture while I was out. "Running". (Yes, I'm using quotation fingers).
Because yes, there was a funeral on at the church and I had to stop and give directions not once, but TWICE, and the second time I had too much saliva in my mouth and my words slurred because I was trying to stop from spitting in her face. She looked as though she was going to ask if I was ok but thought better of it in case she was required to take me home.
Then I bumped into a lady who I have a slightly shady past with (it was at a Christmas concert, and we were fighting over the front row seats.) We talked dogs and she wouldn't stop talking about it, no matter how politely I kept side stepping away.
I normally go with my lovely friend Abby...I say 'normally', I think we've only been 3 times...but she is slim and doesn't seem to need to breathe...unlike me; doesn't get red faced...like me; and runs like a gazelle...unlike little warthog here who can only take baby warthog steps. She is still lovely though.
I go a really awful shade of purple, but I am unwilling to show you. I shall show you a portion.
Pretty little warthog, I know.
Until next time.
Pfffff.
No comments:
Post a Comment