Old new running commute

Although I get up this morning feeling unbelievably tired, I take my running kit to work with me so I can run home and I manage not to get lost on the .5 of a mile that takes me down a new route and then I’m back on my old commute route in Angel dodging the annoying free newspaper giver outers who are trying to give me a paper, like does it look like I want a paper you moron? and I go past the Banksy in Essex Road and down Balls Pond Road and then I have to decide if I want to go through Hackney and Murder Mile or through Stamford Hill and I decide to go through Stamford Hill as then I can run down Spring Hill and it will be fun and I need some fun as work just  isn’t funny at the moment due to my boss seemingly having been replaced by a power crazy 21 year old who I want to kill and probably will by the end of the week and I run down Spring Hill but it wasn’t that much fun really and then I go through the marina and I’m walking down the boring bit and people keep running past me and really this should inspire me to run but it doesn’t and I walk most of my commute because I am feeble.

Stats
Distance: 6.62 miles
Time: 1:33:39
Pace: 14:09
Calories: 533
Old new running commutes: 1
Power crazy 21 year olds: 1
Boring blog posts: 1

A slight detour or two

As this weekend’s long run will consist of doing the 5k City of London Race for Life, I decide to ramp up my mileage by undertaking another one of those running commute things that I love so much. Although I do seem to have a running commute convert who actually enjoyed the experience. Ha, he’s new to London, it won’t be long before he’s hard and cynical like me the rest of London.

So after a busy busy busy day at work which was made busier by my boss coming over to me at lunchtime while I was on the internet and telling me I’ll go blind and what was I reading and me replying “something about Michael Jackson’s kids”, he says I obviously haven’t got enough to do but I’m pleased he didn’t come over five minutes earlier because then if he’d asked me what I was reading I’d have had to have said “a review of a film about a man bleeding to death after having sex with a horse” and then my boss might have questioned my long-term career plans at his firm. He ignores the fact I’m at lunch and obviously have important things to do like read about Michael Jackson’s kids and men shagging horses and gives me work to do and I’m flat out until hometime at 6 o’clock and I set off in the rain for my commute and when I get to Stamford Hill I wonder if Bernard’s mate has ever been there and if Jewish and Muslim people are on his list of people you shouldn’t six next to on a bus along with homeless, gay, disabled and black people, as announced by him when he unequivocally displayed his bigoted twatness to Tracey a few weeks ago and I when I get over the bridge at the marina I see a dodgy looking bloke standing at the end of the bushes and I’m thinking why is that dodgy looking bloke just standing there in the rain and when I get a bit nearer I see another dodgy looking bloke hitting the bushes or something and I turn round and go back the way I came and then I’m thinking shit, I really really don’t want to go home by road but my desire to really really not want to go on the road isn’t as strong as my desire to really really not get attacked and I go up by the river and I get to the ice rink and then I have to decide whether to go past the stables or back out onto the road and I go over the bridge and can see another couple of dodgy looking blokes on the marshes and so I go out onto the street and continue that way and I think every cloud blah blah blah and at least this way I’ll get my mileage up for the 100 mile challenge so yay.

Today’s route

Stats:
Distance: 7.15 mile
Time: 1:26:07 minutes
Pace: 12:02
Calories: 695
Converts to a running commute: 1
Bosses interrupting my lunch: 1
Dodgy looking blokes over the marshes: 4
Bigoted twats: 1
Detours: 2
Clouds with silver linings: 1
Music:
The Mission
Sisters of Mercy
Soft Cell
Madonna
Faith No More
The Beatles
The Secret Machines
The Levellers
Baby Teeth
Hole
The Polyphonic Spree
Scissor Sisters
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Chumbawamba
Troggs
THE 100 MILE CHALLENGE
Miles completed so far
20.71 out of 100 / 26 days left

The joys of a running commute

Reading The Red Bucket’s blog today prompted me to think about the joys of a running commute and to share my happy ponderings with the rest of the world.

But I couldn’t think of any.

You get up in the morning with the best of intentions and pack your running gear. This is an exercise in endurance in itself. What do you take? What don’t you take? I have had to learn how to travel light and also how not to mind freezing on the platform while I’m waiting for my train because I’ve had to leave my parka at home. I fail miserably at not minding freezing.

You get to work and your workmates look at you in admiration (at least, I think that’s what it is. It could of course, and possibly more likely, be looks of bewilderment) when you say you’re running home and you smugly think to yourself yay, I am fit and healthy and you are a lazy bastard. Then it gets to the afternoon and you think fuck, I’m knackered and now I’ve got to run for over an hour instead of sitting on a train for 15 minutes. In fact, by the time your Garmin has got a signal, you could have been home with your feet up watching the early evening news (or Hollyoaks).

You have to dodge slow people walking and talking on their mobiles; you have to dodge slow people looking at maps; you have to dodge slow people stopping to light cigarettes and you have to dodge people who are just slow. The only good thing about this is that they are so wrapped up in their own little slow world that they don’t hear you when you swear at them under your breath.

Then you have to stop every four yards to cross the road. Or alternatively you can just get run over every four yards by cars driven by fuckwits who don’t bother to indicate. And don’t forget to look out for cyclists going through red lights. And cyclists on the pavements. And, erm, cyclists in general really.

And of course, it’s dinnertime and the smells from even the greasiest fast food places are enough to make a health-conscious vegetarian’s mouth water. Almost. Although that’s nothing compared to the lager envy you get when you commute in the summer and run past all the people enjoying a cold beer in the evening sun.

When you eventually get home, it is of course late o’clock and by the time you’ve showered and had your dinner there is fuck all else time to do anything else.

Er, yeah, a running commute. I definitely recommend it.

Stats
Distance: 6.06 miles
Time: 1:11:11
Pace:
11:45 m/m
Calories: 586
Slow people: lots
Cars nearly running me over: lots
Cyclists going through red lights: lots
Music
Bobby Conn
The Levellers
Madonna
Radiohead
Baby Teeth
Devo
Janis Joplin
Scissor Sisters
Rolling Stones
THE 100 MILE CHALLENGE
Miles completed so far
12.55 out of 100 / 28 days left

A walking commute

Sex and the City has a lot to answer for.  At least, Paramount Comedy does by showing it every night.  I mean, what’s a girl to do?  Stay up late watching it and drinking wine?  Exactly.  But staying up late drinking wine and watching telly is not conducive to good running performance, whether that be a 10k race or a 10k running commute.  Maybe I should just give up 10ks.  Hmm, now there’s a thought.

Or perhaps I can blame it on not being mentally prepared for a full commute tonight, as my workmate said she was going to walk half of it with me but come 5:30 this afternoon she comes over and says she’s wimping out and getting the train home instead.  Tsk, what a lightweight.   I walk up with her to Moorgate and then I’m waiting about three hours for my Garmin to pick up a signal but it doesn’t look like it’s going to so I start without it and just time myself instead and it picks up a signal somewhere along the way and I walk most of my commute like a complete weed, which is a bit crap really because I’ve got more races coming up; the Salomon XT Wings Challenge encompassing the challenge within the challenge which starts on Saturday; and then we’ll have Juneathon again which I will leave Joggerblogger to tell you about if he remembers not to forget about it again.

Stats
Distance: 5.65 miles
Time: 1:20:19
Pace:
14:13 m/m
Calories: 453
Late nights drinking wine and watching Sex and the City: too many
Running breaks: a couple
Music
Duran Duran
The Mission
Transvision Vamp
B52s

Delorean
Echo & The Bunneymen
Sisters of Mercy
Arctic Monkeys
Manic Street Preachers

Running commute #2

The man on XFM this morning said that summer was over and now all we had to look forward to were clouds and rain and apart from thinking I hate the man on XFM, I think typical just as I’ve re-started my running regime and then I remember that I like running in the rain although if I had to choose between all day rain or all day sun then I would say all day sun please, hell yeah, and so I pack my running stuff and grab my umbrella and go to work and tell my new workmates I’m going to run home and they don’t look at me like I’m mad, in fact they think it’s pretty cool and one of them says she’ll walk part of the way with me if I want to walk one day and I say how about Tuesday, where can you get a train from? and she says Hackney Downs and I say I can go that way, it’s three miles from here, is that ok? and she says yes so my next running commute is going to be half walk/half run, unless I cheat and jump on the train at Hackney Downs too.

But today isn’t a half walk/half run and maybe cheating-by-jumping-on-the-train-at-Hackney-Downs day, today is a proper running commute day but by less than two miles I need to stop and go to the shop and get a drink but not a can of Stella because only complete nutters like the man on the tube last night who threatened me and Tracey drink Stella, and the man at the counter says hello, how are you? and I say I’m fine thanks and he looks at my black eye and says have you been fighting? and I say yeah, you should see the other guy and he says really?  and I say no, not really, I fell over and he says shit, sorry about my language and I say that’s ok and he says were you on a bike? and I lie and say no, I was running, instead of saying no, I was drunk and fell over because once again I forgot wine equals hospitalisation and I pay for my drink and continue on my commute and remember to go the right way this time and I go down the hill again which is as much fun as it was on Tuesday and as I get to the footbridge at the marina a motorbike goes up it and I think I haven’t seen that before and he rides his bike down the steps on the other side and I get round the bend and there’s a cyclist having a piss on the edge of the path and I think you dirty peasant and I go under the bridge and then I’m being lazy and walking and I skip through my iPod trying to find  an uplifting song to spur me on but nothing does and I’m skipping through and skipping through but there’s still nothing and I can practically see my house and so I think I’d better start running again so I do and I get home quicker than last time although that may have something to do with not going half a mile out of my way by not following my map properly.

And the more eagle eyed of you may have spotted the new widget on the right hand side.  And the even more eagle eyed of you may have spotted that I’ve been called “he”.  I haven’t had a sex change.  Honest.  However, I have been set the challenge of running 100 miles in a month.  Warrior Woman has also been set a challenge which I’m sure she’ll tell you about at some point on her blog but in the meantime she has thrown down the gauntlet and challenged me to a challenge within a challenge which shall see us undertaking our challenges at the same time in a mini-competition kind of thing because obviously it’s not enough for her to keep beating me at Scrabulous on Facebook.  Now she wants to out-run me.  Hmm.

Stats
Distance: 5.98 miles
Time: 1:11:03
Pace:
11:53 m/m
Calories: 600
Shops stopped at: 1
Motorbikes going over footbridges: 1
Cyclists pissing on paths: 1
Times went the wrong way: 0
Times looked at map: 1
Walking breaks: a couple
Challenges: 1
Challenges within challenges: 1
Music
Cardiacs
Bobby Conn
Devo
Faith No More
Levellers
The Cure
Foo Fighters
Hole
Missy Elliot
Carter
Soft Cell

New running commute

I still haven’t retired. Honest. And I know it looks like that if I haven’t retired, then I’ve at least gone part-time but that’s not true either. I had a string of injuries but things come in threes and now I’ve had three and so that should be that and now I’m back in the land of the living, running and blogging. Hurrah.

I spend Monday evening printing off maps so I can plot my new running commute that www.walkit.com has plotted for me and I spend my lunch hour today drawing on the map in blue highlighter pen and I’m thinking I’m going to get lost as it’s a completely different way to my old commute and it even misses out Murder Mile and so at 6 o’clock tonight I set off for my new running commute and try and find somewhere to stand and wait for my Garmin to pick up a signal. I’ve also brought out the Nike+ Sportband for another test but the display is completely bolloxed now and is unreadable. Bah. Still, I have my trusty Garmin and it doesn’t take too long to get a signal and I follow my map up to Moorgate and past Old Street and through Hoxton and into Dalston and then across the road on the right I see the road I used to go down on my old commute and I think hmm, shall I go that way as I know where I’m going if I go that way but I decide to put my faith into The Map and it’ll be a change anyway and a change is as good as a rest so I continue going left and the road on the right wasn’t the road I thought it was because I come to the road I thought it was and this time it definitely is that road and I think hmm, shall I go that way as I know where I’m going if I go that way but once again I decide to put my faith into The Map and keep on going up the road and then I’m in Stoke Newington and as I’m crossing a road I walk into a pitbull and I think shit, it’s going to bite my leg off now but it’s a nice doggy and doesn’t bite my leg off and it’s hooded owner doesn’t shoot me either and I say sorry to the dog and carry on and I’ve done 3.5 miles which is more than I’ve done for two weeks and I’ve got a 10k on Sunday which I’m going to struggle round and I decide to walk until I get to 4 miles and I get to Stoke Newington station and I need to turn off and I start running again and then I’ve gone too far and I’ve gone the wrong way but I think that’s not bad only going the wrong way once so far on my new running commute and my navigation skills are obviously improving and I find the way I need to go and I’m in Clapton and I’m thinking this can’t be Clapton, it looks nice round here and it’s very different to the Murder Mile bit and I need to find Spring Hill and I see a road without a road sign and it’s definitely a hill, in fact, it’s the steepest hill I’ve seen ever ever ever, or is at least the steepest hill I’ve seen since the last time I saw a steep hill and it’s all downhill and I think weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and I run down the hill and then I’m at the marina and I know where I am and I get home and I didn’t suffer too badly on my first run for over two weeks and may even make it to my race on Sunday. Yay.

Today’s route

Stats
Distance: 6.63 miles
Time: 1:23:40
Pace:
12:37 m/m
Calories: 604
New running commutes: 1
Times went the wrong way: 1
Times looked at map: millions
Walking breaks: quite a few
Music
Cardiacs
Sleeper
Bobby Conn
Jamiroquai
Jesus & Mary Chain
Foo Fighters
Missy Elliot
Levellers

Fame at last

At the last London Blogger’s meet up, I get interviewed by a journalist and a few days later an email from the meet up’s organiser arrives to let us know that the article’s due to appear in this morning’s Metro, but there’s none left at the station and I’m wondering if I grab one out of someone’s hands will I get a slap and I decide I probably will, so I wait until I get to Liverpool Street and grab one there and flick through it to see if it’s time for my 15 centimetres of fame and woo hoo, there I am (or at least my name is) in the middle of the paper which is the nearest I’m ever going to get to being a centrefold, then like a complete saddo I go and grab three more copies, who for I don’t know, as I won’t be giving one to my mum because then she will read my blog and then she will tell me off for drinking and swearing. 

 

And as I’m walking to work, I’m wondering if fame will change me and how soon will it be until I’m offered interviews on late night chat shows or maybe even my own chat show and shitloads of cash and there’s a girl walking along carrying a Metro and I resist the temptation to tap her on the shoulder and say “oi, I’m in that” and I’m thinking that as I’m quoted as saying people have said I’m an inspiration, then I’d better inspire myself and do my running commute home, although I am also quoted as saying I decided to give up smoking and run a marathon when at the time, my ambition was simply to get round the block without collapsing in a heap after coughing up a lung.

While I’m at work hoping that the annoying bimbo in the office next door hasn’t read the Metro this morning and developed a sudden interest in jogging blogs and found out that I called her an annoying bimbo, a girl who is also leaving comes over to me and asks if I want to have a joint leaving drinks thing.  Uh oh.  I was planning on making a quiet exit and would rather have rusty nails hammered underneath my fingernails then spend my lunch hour with some of the annoying fuckwits in here, so I say yeah, great, when? I can’t do Friday and she says on Monday, her last day and I say cool.  Bollocks.

I set off for my running commute and as I’m going down Essex Road I pass a pub that has a sign outside saying pizza two for one.  FREE PIZZA?!  Woo hoo.  I must investigate as free pizza sounds almost as good as free alcohol and outside the pub is a man smoking in a wheelchair and it reminds me that on the way to the Post Office this morning there was a man smoking in a wheelchair and it occurred to me that I didn’t think I had seen anyone in a wheelchair smoke before and wondered how he got into smoking and then I wondered why I wondered that and why shouldn’t people in wheelchairs smoke and maybe he started smoking before he was in a wheelchair.    

And all the lights are on red this evening so I get back quite quickly and I see the same man walking over the marshes that I saw last time but he didn’t murder me last time so I assume he won’t murder me tonight either and my assumption is correct and I get home without getting murdered.  Hurrah.

Stats
Distance: 6.13 miles
Time: 1:07:28
Pace: 11:00 m/m
Calories: 616
Claims to fame: 1
Men smoking in wheelchairs: 2
Leaving drinks arranged: 1
Music
Jesus & Mary Chain
Cardiacs
The Mission
Primal Scream
PJ Harvey
Jamiroquai
Nine Inch Nails
The Cribs
Foo Fighters
Devo

A long running commute

As I have resolved to do another running commute tonight, this morning I look at my marathon training schedule and it says to do 8 miles. What?!!! Yikes. 8 miles mid-week? I’ve only ever done 6 miles mid-week and I don’t have an 8 mile route and I don’t know if I’m marathon training yet or what anyway. But I take my running stuff to work with me and at lunchtime I’m trying to eat my lunch in peace and read the internet but those noisy annoying twats in the office next door are being noisy annoying twats so I mutter loudly under my breath “shut the fuck up” and hope they can hear me and I grab my iPod and go to go out for a walk but my boss is back from court and in his office and he’s got his pissed off face on and calls me in and starts going blah blah blah and hassling me and I go back to my desk to do something for him and the noisy annoying twats are still being noisy and annoying and I go to leave again and my boss apologises for going blah blah blah and hassling me and he says he’s stressed and asks if I’m going to the gym and I say no, those idiots are being annoying, I need to go for a walk and escape and he says yes, good idea, go out for an hour or so, I’ll see you later and I think bollocks, in my new job I bet my new boss won’t be telling me to go out for an hour and I go for a walk up to Waterloo bridge and I wonder how far the river is from my new job and I think it’s nearer than it is now and I go back to work and my boss has gone back to court and the door is shut on the annoying twats’ office and I think you shut the door after I’ve gone? you tossers, and the day is going so so slowly and I just want to go home and do my running commute and my boss comes back and says I can go home on time today and I think hooray, as for the last two days I’ve left late and I leave to do my commute and while I’m at the bus stop waiting for my Garmin to get a signal I think how warm it is and glad I’m wearing a short sleeved t-shirt as I haven’t even started to run yet and I’m roasting already and when my Garmin eventually gets a signal I head off and I’m still trying to decide whether I should start marathon training now as, although my new schedule started last week, I had already made myself a schedule that doesn’t start ‘til May and my brain isn’t prepared to start training yet but I don’t want to appear ungrateful for the new schedule and I give myself until I get to the Angel to decide whether this is the start of my marathon training or not and I get to the Angel and I still haven’t decided and I get to Essex Road and a woman cycles up a side road and I’m sure it’s the same woman from yesterday who was getting sworn at by a very angry man for cycling on the pavement but she doesn’t seem to be harmed so maybe she wasn’t beaten into submission although she is now on the road instead of the pavement so maybe she learnt her lesson after all and all I have to say on the cyclist v pedestrian v cars debate is CYCLISTS: KEEP OFF THE FUCKING PAVEMENT.

And as I’m going down Essex Road, I’m remembering to look out for a chemist that Londonjogger said there’s a Banksy on although I wouldn’t recognise a Banksy even if Brian Sewell dragged me over to one by the hair and said “This is a Banksy” but I eventually find a chemist in Essex Road with some graffiti on the side of it and I’m assuming this is what you meant LJ?

The rest of Essex Road remains Banksy-less and cyclists-on-pavement-less and I get halfway home and think oh no, I’ve got to do another five miles but a schedule is a schedule and a resolve is a resolve and more to the point a marathon is twenty six point two miles long and it seems that my brain has decided for me that I am marathon training now after all but I still haven’t decided how I’m going to add another two miles on in the marshes and I get to the marshes and when I get to the first bridge I decide to not go over the marshes but to run alongside the canal on the other side and rejoin the marshes at the marina which a) means I don’t have to be stuck in the middle of the marshes on my own but can run alongside the houses and feel safer; and b) it’ll make a change as I haven’t run that way before. And as I’m running alongside the canal the area has a nice feel about it and I start looking at the houses to see if any of them have a for sale sign on them as I quite fancy a house overlooking the canal and the marshes and then I see one and make a note of the estate agent and think I will investigate and see how much they are and then I can live opposite the marshes and hope my cat doesn’t fall into the canal.

I get to the rowing club at five and a half miles and it’s a mile to the street then a mile and a half home so that will bring me up to 8 miles and I think that was just about a perfect route and when I’m going back along the street I look over the wall at the train tracks and there’s a sign there I’ve never noticed before that says “7” and I look at my Garmin and it’s on 6.99 miles and I think that’s spooky or maybe I’m hallucinating and I finally get home and I’ve got to write this blog and hope I’ve managed to intertwine all the answers to the questions that were in the comments from yesterday’s post and have a shower and wash my hair and have some dinner and do my washing and get my stuff ready for the gym tomorrow lunchtime and my new journalism evening class tomorrow night and between doing that and going to work I’ve somehow got to fit some sleep in too.

Today’s route

Stats
Distance: 8.26 miles
Time: 1:33:38
Pace: 11:20 m/m
Calories: 823
Annoying twats in the office next door: 4
Days ’til I leave my job: 21
Banksys: 1
Marathon training schedules started: 1
Music
Jesus & Mary Chain
The Levellers
Cardiacs
Hard-Fi
The Doors
Electric Soft Parade
Eminem
Franz Ferdinand
The Gossip
The Killers
The Kooks
Manic Street Preachers
Pulp
Modest Mouse
PJ Harvey
Sleeper
Sex Pistols
Ween
The Who
The Wombats
Ash
Charlotte Hatherley

Bicycle rage

After having the hangover of all hangovers on Friday, I have an abstemious weekend without a drop of alcohol passing my lips, only leaving the house to undertake such exciting activities like go to Sainsburys to buy fruit, muesli and soya milk.  So when Monday morning arrives, I bounce out of bed the second my fake sunrise comes on full of the joys of spring and skip into work looking forward to a running commute tonight.

Back in the real world however, I spend all day thinking why have I told myself I’m running home tonight?  But run home I do and as I get to Essex Road there’s a man shouting at a woman on a bicycle.  On the pavement.  Boo hiss.  He’s shouting and swearing at her and pointing to the road saying “there’s the fucking road, this is the fucking pavement” but I can’t hear what she’s saying so I turn my iPod off so I can be nosy but she’s got an annoying squeaky voice like the bimbo in the office next door so I turn my iPod back on to drown out Mrs Squeaky Voice Pavement Cyclist and the man’s still shouting and swearing at her and usually I wouldn’t condone a man shouting and swearing at a woman in a bullying and intimidating manner but she’s cycling on the pavement and therefore deserves everything she gets.  I decide to leave them to it in case the police are called as it is getting rather heated and I resist the urge to kick one of her wheels before running off really quickly and continue with my journey which remains uneventful and I’m going to try really hard to get three runs in a week from now on which only leaves tomorrow for me to do another running commute – which according to my marathon training schedule has to be extended to take in 8 miles – as my new evening class starts on Wednesday and on Thursday Gary’s coming round to be beaten at Scrabble and partake in some unabstemious behaviour involving beer and pizza and Friday’s the day before my long run and so I can’t run home that night and it would be nice if someone could invent some more days in the week please.

Stats
Distance: 6.16 miles
Time: 1:07:25
Pace: 10:56 m/m
Calories: 615
Bicycle rage incidents: 1
Days in week: Not enough
Music
Hole
Faith No More
David Bowie
The Cult
Franz Ferdinand
Jamiroquai
Sleeper
The Twang

Running commute #11

After my and my anonymous friend with her anonymous blog‘s failed attempt at undertaking the Great Voucher Abuse Pub Crawl Challenge – which had it all gone to plan would have seen us using our get four bottles of Bud free vouchers at four Central London Pitcher & Pianos which would have meant 16 free bottles of Bud each with the slight possibility of a slight headache the next day – a few glasses of champagne later in a bar somewhere in Soho we decide to not be deterred and to continue on with the Great Voucher Abuse Pub Crawl Challenge on Monday albeit a mini version comprising of just the Liverpool Street and Fenchurch Street branches, me rapidly forgetting that I had given up drinking.  Oops.

But Monday comes and I have to bow out of the GVAPCC due to having some web design work to do although I have officially given up web design and it would seem I’m as good as giving up web design as I am at giving up drinking and I spend Monday night adding PayPal buttons to a site instead of going out drinking and because I’m no good at giving up drinking we rearrange to undertake the GVAPCC on Tuesday instead.  Hurrah.

We get to the Liverpool Street Pitcher & Piano but they have no Bud.  Bollocks.  So armed with my trusty map we navigate our way down to the Fenchurch Street branch where I can see lots and lots of brown bottles with red labels with Budweiser written on them in white writing.  Hurrah.  I give the barman my voucher and he says sorry we’re not accepting the vouchers anymore.  Bollocks.  I say but it doesn’t run out ’til 29 February and he says sorry we’re not accepting them anymore so I say but it doesn’t run out ’til 29 February and he says sorry we’re not accepting them anymore and I say but it doesn’t run out ’til 29 February and he says company policy, or some such bollocks like that.  Grr.  So we go to another pub and get a bottle of wine and decide to give up on the GVAPCC and then I go home and I get up not particularly hungover and I do my running commute on the way home which is largely uneventful although it was my quickest commute ever, yay.

Stats:
Distance: 6.22 miles
Time: 1:05:25
Pace: 10:31
Calories: 601
Successful GVAPCCs: 0
Blog posts mostly about running: 0
Music:
Straw
Cardiacs
Manic Street Preachers
Sex Pistols
Devo
Morphine
Harvey Danger
Rollins Band
The Twang

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