A History Of Running…

So in an entertaining post I thought I’d share a small, yet comical, insight into my experience of running so far.

(I was going to blog about the severe calf burn of last nights Hill Sprints but I’m sure hearing about me panting and spluttering up the local Valleys, while hoping not to fall in a ditch, didn’t sound too entertaining!)

So, as you are now experts of my ‘larger than life’ past you will know that my running experience isn’t too big. Yet, whilst brief, I think you will find my experience outweighs the running of most. I have always been socially unfortunate, not in the friend sense [I’m a true mingler of sorts] … my unfortunate existence falls more under the category of Tragic. Let me explain in 5 brief events and let you decide:

1. Saving a Life, and looking like a creep: on one eventful afternoon as I jogged happily along a woodland trail, enjoying the quiet nature that surrounded me I soon heard the screams of some local kids [I say heard, it was only until I was 5m away that the high pitched fear was audible over my enjoyment for Katy Perry’s ‘I kissed a girl’]. Now before you judge my music choices let’s not forget the screaming gang. So after a few minutes it turned out that a school girl had fallen in the river and couldn’t climb the bank. So the Hero within soon yanked her out, while the possy of kids filmed my success for the delights of YouTube and a You’ve been framed paycheck! However, rather than looking like a modern day Superman  ,as a few walkers passed the sight of me holding a girl and her, drenched to her waist in mud, caused more than a little reaction. Let’s just say I looked like a crime watch case waiting to happen! And not even a thanks…

2. A Paula Radcliffe, without the poise: this summer as I jogged along a local bike route I thought, what a beautiful day. The sun was beaming, a breeze gently wafting the occasional/frequent sweat from my brow. Bliss I hear you cry? Well no. Not in the slightest. A mile in I happened to jog past a family, lovely cute daughter. Now before you get broody this picturesque family image is deceptive. No sooner than I had headed towards them I realised the little girl was well… squatting. And not in the muscle building sense either. Yes, I’m afraid to say I have witnessed a Paula Radcliffe moment of my very own… and no, it was not cool. *mental note,  never go on the cycling path, there’s more than dog mess to dodge!*

3. How low can you really go? I often run in my running shorts, which I find both comfortable and attractive: no matter who you are, the chance of bumping into my future wife means I am always prepared! She most definitely won’t be prepared for me. So as I leave, to the amusement of my housemates, I realise these shorts may be just a tad too short.  Now I’m all for comfort, but I was pushing the boundary a little too far. Far enough that a poor pensioner gained more than an eyeful as I stretched along the promenade! But I must admit, even though I knew my loved Adidas shorts would potentially get me arrested I still haven’t parted with them, but have no fear… they will not be making an appearance at the Half Marathon!


4. Falling from grace: now this is only a short story (cheers erupting from readers everywhere! ) but equally as embarrassing as all the rest. Now I’m sure plenty of runners have fallen over, ok so most move past the Bambi on Ice stage when they hit 10, but alas I am not as fortunate. One day, finishing my run with some hasty sprint intervals, hoping people everywhere would be amazed at my speed and strength, I came to the last 800m which happens to be outside my local pub. Not flashing red lights yet? Well, mix one clutz and a concrete pavement outside a beer garden packed full of drunks and what do you get? A bruised and bloodied gimp, wrestling with gravity and a lifetime of embarrassment. The 2 seconds would have gone by in no time, but apparently adding the heckling of a drunken crowd and 2 seconds transforms into a feeling of 2hours. Let’s just say, I’ve not passed the pub since… and I’m secretly hoping for a plaque on the wall – ‘went down like a sack of sh*t 2013’


5. Last but not least, getting lost…for over an hour: now you’d think studying geography I would have a good sense of direction. But no. Clueless. Having been running for 20 minutes I soon got into a run-off with a stranger. Now as harmless as that sounds, it is far from it. We’ve all been there, you spot a runner about to pass you and before you know it you’re reinacting London Olympics as if beating this poor stranger will result in glory and gold. Well shamefully I gained neither. In fact what I did gain was a quick panic as I’d raced into a part of the valley I’ve never seen. So, a few housr later I stagger home, having gone to the extent of Google maps to save my bacon,  and found my sister wondering why I’d been so long. Rather than tell the truth I resorted to a bare lie: ‘oh I’ve just finished a 15mile run, phew knackered’… yes, I stalked a stranger for glory,  and yes I pretended to be an adonis whilst I was at it. Tragic runner.


So there you have It,  in 5 brief moments you can see how unfortunate and tragic my running life has been. And don’t worry, I am quite certain further embarrassment is just around the corner. Best get running and continue the tragedy!

I’ll keep you updated on any developments through #chafingthedream 😉




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