I go for a run.

Run! Run! Run! Across the road and up the hill towards the Village Shop, the frosty air kept at bay by two layers of Matalan. I have dug out my old “I go for a run” playlist, and the motivational music spurs me on at the correct pace.

“Oooohyeah it’s just the Eighties Coming Back ooohyeah…”

My body’s response seems to be okay; it is not until I pass Eddie’s house that I find myself gaspingly short of breath, and by this point I can see the Cottage with its warm and armchair-beckoning front door. Unfortunately Eddie lives pretty well opposite me, and I am looking over my shoulder on the way out, rather than jogging triumphantly in on the home straight.

I shrug my shoulders, or at least I do in my mind, as moving a shoulder muscle would use up half my available energy reserve. A few minutes later I have run the length of his bungalow and am on my way up towards the Village Sign.

Run! Run! Run! It is important that I maintain a sensible pace, as I do not want to be foolish and cause a pulled or strained Thing. I turn down the hill on the green lane, gracefully evading some dog shit. “’stheeightiescoming eightiescoming eightiescoming…”

I am quite impressed with my legs so far. I’d had an inkling that they might drop off, but they are still very much trotting away, albeit somewhat independently from the rest of my body. Kate Bush introduces herself to my ears. I cannot fully interact with her under current circumstances, and it occurs to me that I am the only person in the world ever to listen to this particular song and not do the arm movements. The duckpond passes, like a speeding glacier.

Ten minutes later and I am clenching my fists with the heat of achievement, standing in my kitchen, not dead. In fact I feel better than I’ve felt for a long time. In some respects.

Happily, I run myself a bath and get myself a cold refreshing full-fat Pepsi Cola from the fridge.

41 Comments

  1. So, you had a nice walk then?

  2. Shutupshutup it was a run

  3. Lemme see if I got this right…you ran across the road, got a can of soda from your pal, popped it in the fridge…

  4. I am no iTunes expert, but I’m not sure you can technically call two songs a ‘ going for a run playlist’?

  5. I probably should join the snarky greek chorus you have going on here, but as an avid runner myself, I feel quite verklempt right now reading about your little fledgling runette. 10 minutes today, 12 tomorrow.

  6. That Pepsi is packed full of go-fast stuff like caffeine and sugar. If you had drunk it before the run you may have been able to get all the way to the village pub and back.

    In fact, if you got as far as the pub you could have made it a biathlon, or even a triathlon: run to pub, play some darts, play some pool, walk home again – Jonny B: Iron Man.

  7. Ignore the knockers. They were not there, and cannot share your pain.

    Didn’t Allen Sillitoe write a book about your kind…”The lonliness of the the long distance shuffler”.

    Something like that.

  8. two songs from the eighties only take three mins each…unlike two of todays songs which take about 5 mins each…..this means that you could only possibly been out on your walk for 6 minutes….

  9. “Hero man battles elements, lethargy.” I can see this story will run and run. Unlike the teller.

  10. Hullo Landlords Insurance and welcome. Beer is fattening, of course.

  11. I could ‘run’ further than that!

  12. An impressive feat indeed.
    Tomorrow! An impressive yard.

  13. …I maintain a sensible pace, as I do not want to be foolish and cause a pulled or strained Thing.

    Enough about your love-life, already!

  14. i was expecting

    I go for a run!!!

    not

    I go for a run. boring.

  15. Calories burned by your run: 75

    Calories in your cola drink: 150

  16. Yes Jonny, I can sympathise. It sounds like my efforts umpteen years back. Bought tracksuit, practised running on the spot in the bathroom for a week, went out for first jog, less than 200 yards, out of puff, limped back, shower, never again – or were you hoping for some praise and encouragement?

  17. Don’t you need four legs for trotting?

    Chin up. Soon you’ll be fit enough to break into a canter!

    Ignore the neigh-sayers here.

  18. NAGA - Life Coach To The Stars

    “..but he could play the banjo like ringing a bell..”

    Go go
    Go Jonny go go go…

    Jonny B good and move away from the full-fat Pepsi.

    Apparentally, if you mentally take yourself through the running process, you will achieve the same benefit as actually performing the act itself.

    Start with an easy five minutes in the chair with ‘Chariots of Fire’ and progress it over the next few weeks – increasing the slow motion into, real time.

    Useful for those moments when, the LTLP is away with the fleas too.

  19. I went for a run once.

  20. Yes….exercise…yes….good…yes…I’ve been exercising recently….yes…yes

    (Have you ever had one of those moments when you really wanted to comment on a blog but actually had absolutely nothing to say but you really wanted to comment anyway…I think it’s the blogging equivalent of nodding)

  21. Cor blimey! That sounds absolutely exhausting. Good thing you made it back to your kitchen in time though. As in: before you dropped dead in an ungainly heap in front of the neighbours. That would be awful.

  22. Yellow: all the time, before I outsourced my commenting to India.

  23. Oh thanks a lot. I’ve lost my money and NOW you do the obligatory “I go for a run. Run run run” thing.
    Harumph.

  24. What, “Eighties Coming Back” by Ruffus, the 2003 Estonian Eurovision entry? I had no idea you were such a man of taste!

  25. I can’t help wondering how hard TD worked to get a Eurovision reference in….
    🙂

  26. I did not know Kate Bush’s “Running up that Hill” required hand gestures.

    Perhaps I’m just a lazy person, though I have breathed along to “Breathing”.

    Of course, running does put me in mind of “The Red Shoes”. Blister-wise.

  27. Now just a cotton pickin’ minute My lad. A hill in Norfolk!!! You’re not just talking to the furriners now you know. Some of us know things about Norfolk and hills isn’t one of them.

  28. Honestly, Brennig. He’s been emailing me daily, lobbying for one.

  29. “Not dead”.

    Heh.

  30. Laura from Bas Vegas

    Nod, nod, well done Jonny, keep up the good work.

  31. I more or less gave up on jogging after a chastening experience at the hands of the Elswick Harriers in 1992 (they’re a famous troupe of Geordie runners who produced Brendan Foster among other middle-distance luminaries). I signed up for their weekly jog through Newcastle’s western suburbs and was put in with the ‘slow’ group- a half-dozen strong band of sprighly sextuaganarians (nearly three times my age at the time). We set off at a brisk pace into the still October air. Twenty minutes later we were somewhere out by the Town Moor, seemingly headed for deepest Northumberland, and I was begging for mercy before a number 36 bus came to my rescue. I never went back for a second week.

    So… good on you Jonny, stick with it, things can only get easier- after all Norfolk is a very flat County even if night buses may be harder to come by if the going gets tough.

  32. My comment has disappeared.

    Not a problem and all that, but it has.

    Perhaps this one won’t pass the interesting filter either,

  33. Now I’m getting paranoid.

  34. Oh, I need a URL. Is that it?

    Compulsory blogwhoring?

  35. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow! Unbelievable!

  36. I’d run too, but I might spill my drink.

  37. Well done going for the full fat cola. That nasty aspartame in the diet stuff could wreak havoc with finely tuned fitness regime.

  38. Don’t give up now, we’re proud of who you are.
    Don’t give up, you know it’s never been easy.

  39. Are you still running?

  40. Roads are bad for running on. The best thing to do is to drive to somewhere with soft woodland ground and things to stop and look at as you go. Stopping to look at the squirrels in the trees or to eat bilberries can’t be considered as resting. (Can it..?)

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