December 2008

[Sweder]

A woeful addition, but an addition none-the-less in a month of pitiful mileage so far. 3.06 kilometres in a shade over 17 minutes through slurry, mud and mist, lumbering up to the stables and back via the ploughed somme-you-like that is the rain-soaked, horse-churned South Downs Way. I collected no end of booties, endured a slide into knee-deep sludge and waddled like an inebriated duck for most of the journey.

Time was my enemy; time, and a baffling onset of misdirection and apathy. By the time I'd pfaffed around looking for gloves (not located) and leggings (previously laid out for yet another aborted run) my rendezvous with a valued friend and customer at Gatwick loomed all too large on the horizon. I almost bailed but a combination of guilt (after watching the Hastings Heroes flail themselves through the elements yesterday) and shame at having singularly failed to get out since early last week forced my hand. Well, feet.

I did manage to work up a mini-lather, huffing and puffing through the gloom, dogs at heel, cursing my early discumbolutation, pontification and general cocking about. Seems I'll do anything to avoid an honest run these days. What's that about? I don't know. I've replaced earnest endeavour with serious indulgence without any apparent concern for the damage done to stirling November progress. We are strange, quaint creatures, we humans; soft and pink on the outside and, at times, mushy and unfathomably dumb on this inside.

C'est la vie. I'm hoping for a return to better ways soon, though tomorrow night's scheduled visit to the Astoria II for the Girlschool gig suggests otherwise :o