Yesterdays late night eight-miler was very nice.
Not horrible, not amazing, just very nice. Pleasant. Unfortunately, the only problem with a run like this is that it doesn’t lend itself to a particularly exciting blog post. So as I plodded my way round, my mind turned to ways that I could use a little artistic licence to, shall we say, embellish my running experience to make it more gripping for my dear old readers.
So, in no particular order, yesterdays run featured the following imaginary shenanigans…
1. Chased by a minotaur for the last kilometre. Turned out to just be Bill Oddie wearing an elaborate yuletide bonnet. Oh how we laughed.
2. Took wrong turn and ended up in the penguin enclosure of the local zoo.
3. Maintained a consistent 9.30 min/mile pace.
4. Decided to combine my night-time runs with some costumed crime-fighting. Proclaimed myself the night’s fury and spent much of my run protecting the weak and punishing evildoers.
6. Came to the assistance of a fellow runner who had twisted his ankle. Turned out to be Nelson Mandela, and we’re now firm friends.
7. Fell through a wormhole in the space/time continuum and was transported to Swindon, circa 1997. Spent the rest of the run cursing my poor imagination.
8. Accidentally found the button on my Garmin that turns it into a speedboat.
9. Rescued Princess Michael of Kent from a shed fire and STILL managed a decent positive split.
10. Decided to write a blog post that was actually about running, without going off at odd tangents at every opportunity.
There y’go. Each one as plausible as the last 🙂
I should really get out more. Or less. I’m not sure.
It’s the Bedford Half on Sunday folks, so my next post should at least vaguely resemble a sensible race report. Well, a race report at least.