Friday 31 July 2009

10 - Jog

After telling people that I'd walked to work last week (why?, they said), two of them suggested that I should run. Note that both these friends have done the London marathon. Now I'm as fit as anyone that bikes 15 miles most days, but I am not Lasse Viren. Cross-country at school: horrible. Athletics: painful. Jogging: I don't get it.

It was with some trepidation then, at 7am, that I left the house, closed the gate and started putting one foot in front of the other. Least it was dry and not too hot. I really didn't know how it would go. Perhaps they'd find me hyperventilating on the driveway of one of the posh houses on Valley Road hill?

Unpleasant beginning, all uphill, trying to breathe at regular intervals. Warming up and proper running shoes are strictly for wimps and people who know what they're doing. Like Suggs, gotta Keep Moving until some fixed point ahead, say the Henley Road lights. Normally I'd think of the old ring road as dead boring, an interminable series of dreary roundabouts. Today, each of them became the next thing to aim for. Plus the junctions gave a good excuse for a 50 step walk and a swig from the water bottle.

It was going surprisingly OK. Checked watch at the very familiar local landmark that is the Shell garage: half-seven. Was a mistake, though, to be carrying house keys and a mobile in my shorts' pockets. Seemed unlikely, too, that I'd need all that rusty lead piping and the grand piano. Thanks, Goons, for the loan of that line.

Into suburban Kesgrave and eventually to Grange Farm's li'l Tesco. It'll take a psychopath not to stop along the cycle path. Had to quell the green monster more than once when the odd cyclist overtook: hey mate, give us a ride in your pannier. Approaching Dobbs Lane, a bike came alongside. Hi Ed, said my office buddy, running to work today? Yep: no need to stay with me. And off he sped.

There's two old blokes tutting at the discarded beer cans in the recreation ground, obviously left by da local yoof. Past the Douglas Bader pub and a small white dog comes out of an adjacent driveway to check me out. I then realise the mutt is chasing me, and endeavour to pick up the pace. At this exact point another cyclist overtakes and has a darn good laugh at this pavement slapstick. Dog gives up when I cross the next road.

Walked up the bridge, ran down the other side and past the squash club to the freshly re-tarmac-ed path by the bus stop. Crossed the finishing line by the gatehouse at 8:15am, much relieved, fairly pleased and stinkingly sweaty. Thank goodness for the first floor shower and a hot cuppa. That's better.

Cost - free
Duration - 75mins (07:00-08:15)

Pros - quicker than walking; fitness; no timetables
Cons - sweaty betty

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