I tried going for a run yesterday...it's not something I do very often but am on a bit of a kick to shed some excess pounds and get healthy so I thought I'd give it a try. Put on some joggings bottoms, dug out a sports bra (or restraining order) and put on several tops and a bobble hat. I felt pretty good - what could possibly go wrong?
I bounded down the stairs and bumped into my housemate who was putting a pizza into the oven. Gutted. There's not a lot worse than preparing to go an mow down innocent passers by on a freezing January night whilst your housemate is eating melted cheese and ham and sitting on the sofa.
He looked at me a little oddly. I think it was the hat...I hope it was the hat. If it wasn't the hat it was just a look of curiosity at the concept of me about to go and exercise. I asked him if it was the hat. It was the hat. I put my trainers on and prepared to leave...
"So..." says bemused housemate, "Whereabouts are you going to run?"
"Um...." says I, "I don't know...I don't know the area very well."
Now, my housemate is quite a protective, sensible kind and we live on Old Kent Road so I could instantly understand the look of panic that flashed across his face. I can imagine his thought process was something along the lines of "Great, I'm the only other person home and my slightly crackers housemate is going to go and waddle aimlessly round South East London until she's either skinny, raped or sold into slavery. And I'm going to have to leave my pizza to go and rescue her."
I tried my best to be reassuring.
"I've got my phone with me. It's got GPS." He didn't look reassured but he tried a smile. "Tell you what," I offered, "If I'm not back in 2 hours then just call an ambulance and ask them to look on the floor. That's likely where I'll be."
He smiled wanly and went upstairs to draft a letter of condolence to my parents.
Looking like a reject from the Oxfam Annual Fashion Show for the Colourblind, I stepped out onto the street. Now, with running, I always find it awkward to know when to start...do you just jog straight away? Do you walk a little bit down the road and then break into it gently when no one's looking? Are you going to look like some sort of dodgy type if you suddenly break into a run without doing an obligatory calf stretch first of all to warn passers by?
I went with crossing the road and then immediately breaking into a steady pace...no one shouted anything derogatory so I'll assume I got it right. Within about 3 paces I wanted to stop. Well, I didn't want to stop...I was quite keen with myself to carry on but the parts of my body involved in the actual running began referring to my brain as a 'freeloading limbless wonder who wouldn't know a thing about hard work if it came up and bit him on the cell.'. I tried to act as peacemaker but I have to be honest, the entire jog was a bit of a tedious rant between the dangly bits and the thinky bits.
I managed a respectable 3.3 miles...which I feel I'm ok with. I'm not sure how soon I'll be able to repeat the exercise as my hip has decided it's gone on vacation again and is no longer nestling carefully into its socket. I have no idea why it does this but if you see me in the next few days don't ask to see it unless you have a strong stomach - it looks a bit like my hip is trying to give birth to a rubix cube. It turns out that's what could possibly go wrong.