A miraculous recovery

Yesterday when I got up my leg was hurting so bad that I couldn’t put any weight on it and I was limping and I thought oh no, I’m injured again, just when I thought it was safe to send off my half-marathon entry but this morning when I got up I was miraculously recovered and there wasn’t even a twinge so I thought to myself I can go for a run tonight but then I thought maybe I should take my gym stuff to work just in case my leg starts hurting and I can’t run and I can go to the gym instead but then I thought that that would just give me the excuse to wimp out of a run and go to the gym instead and I thought no wimping out, I probably won’t get to go for a run for the rest of the week and not much chance of it next week either and I go to work and people are pissing me off and I think I must stop getting pissed off, I’ve been chilled out for the last couple of weeks and I try to think of excuses why not to run tonight and I wonder if I poke my leg with a pencil or something it will start hurting again and then I’ll have an excuse and I leave work without poking my leg with a pencil and I get on the train and two girls sit next to me and squish me and they start chatting and I think fucking hell, now I can’t read my book and I think to myself well people are allowed to talk and then I think I haven’t got time to run, I need to get a travelcard and cat  litter on the way home and I need to do my washing and I need to wash my hair and I think they’re crap excuses and I get home and there’s a form for the tabletop sale that I can sell my jewellery at in two weeks but I don’t understand it as the commas and full stops are in the wrong place and it’s been typed on a typewriter and photocopied about a billion times and is a bit blurry and I wonder if I should offer to type it for them or will they just think I’m interfering and then I remember that the tabletop sale’s the day after I’ve been to see the best band in the world ever and that it’s not very likely I’m going to get up early to set up a table, although in the letter it says I can set up my stall from 0am on the day so maybe I’ll just stagger down there pissed at  midnight after the gig and do it but then I think it’s probably a typo and I wonder what time I do have to be there and I think I’ll have to ring them again and go through the Little  Britain scenario that I went through on Saturday and I go upstairs to get changed but I can’t resist a peek at Facebook to see if anyone’s thrown a sheep at me today but there’s no sheep but I have been yacked on, whatever that means, and also there’s a message from Emily to say that she’s added my link to her blog and her jewellery website and she’s written a blog post about my jewellery so I think the least I can do is return the favour and tell everyone to go and visit Emily’s Beads and buy all her jewellery and I look at my schedule which doesn’t make much sense due to it being written backwards and I think it says to do 3 miles which is just as well as that’s all I was going to do anyway and I get changed and leave the house and head off on my 2.7 mile route and wonder if I go down the market will it be 3 miles and the streets are busy busy busy and I’m dodging around people and I go round a man at the bus stop only to run straight into TWO CYCLISTS ON THE FUCKING PAVEMENT, and then a group of lads sprint past me on both sides and one of them scratches my arm so I stop to investigate but it’s not bleeding but just stinging and I think you little wanker and I go down the market and I remember that I want to get some info from the council about getting a market stall but only on a Saturday and I think I can pretend I’m in Eastenders and I wonder who I can be and I think I’ll be Carly, she’s pretty, but then I think that it would help if I was blonde and pretty and 15 years younger and I think well I certainly don’t want to be Stacey as that would involve snogging a ginger bloke and I think yes, I’ll be Carly, plus it would be pretty cool to have Phil Daniels as your dad and I get to the end of the market and I go home and I have done three miles, hurrah.

Distance: 3.17 miles
Time: 35:38
Pace: 11:13
Calories: 251
Badly typed forms: 1
Cyclists on the pavement: 2
Scratched arms: 1
The Twang
The Cure


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