So I ran at lunchtime. From Kilburn to Hampstead Heath. 6.05KM in 39:29 minutes. Not fast, but hilly. Iain and I ran together.
I love to run. I truly love to run. You are part of the everyday life of the street, but detached from it. I love the otherness about running. It's like you're a ghost; people only seem to see you fleetingly. They glance at you, as they shuffle about with their cigarettes and you spur by them. Or maybe this is just the endorphins talking as I sweat over this keyboard, but for now I feel good.
7 comments:
Well, now I'm famous...
Thanks for pushing me harder. I think I would have given in well before the end if you weren't there.
And we do it all over again on Monday... Oh the futility...
So. There you go. That was a success. I had my dad say I had some kind of god complex and should be doing the washing up or something. My mum say she was proud of me and some bloke called Morgan call me pompous..
In actual fact, in hindsight, it was the endorphins talking. But, I'm not going to cyhange anything. I wrote that as I literally came through the door.
But anyway, what's wrong with celebrating strength and success ?
Iain and Toby- the Myth of Sysiphus. A man condemned to rolling a huge rock up a hill, for it to roll down the other side when he eventually reached the peak. He had to then go down the other side to roll it back up to the peak once more, only for it to roll down again. Over and over for eternity. This was his life. The rolling up. The rolling down. The rolling up. The rolling down... Commuting. Working. Relationships. Running...
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