June 20, 2007 at 11:51 pm
· Filed under Running
This was a pitiful hobble masquerading as a running commute. I feel fit to quit running today. Throughout the tiny distance I managed to keep moving, I was sulking and stropping like a four year old.
Not that anyone noticed.
This time round I was looking at the garmin for permission to quit after just 423m. The Pussycat Dolls spurred me on for another 206m before I slowed to a walk and polished off my entire water bottle, thereby leaving me high and dry for another 20 odd kilometres. I did a few more yards of running to Akon’s Bellydancer, then gave up again.
The next few kilometres were too painful to go into, I ran a bit but was dragging my feet so much I was tripping over discarded daisy chains and other assorted crud. At one point I stopped at the sight of juicy red cherries tempting me from the roadside. I saw a European couple picking these yesterday and I thought to warn them off as I thought ornamental cherries were toxic. I didn’t bother though and today I wondered if they knew something I didn’t. Popped one in my gob and immediately felt poisoned by the bitter fruit. I then imagined my throat going into spasm so opened my mouth to gasp in a bit more oxygen. A fly promptly shot in and impacted on the back of my throat. My run was cut short again as I started dry retching in the hedgerow.
The moment I reached the A4 and signs of a public transport system, the run was over. I’d previously ignored the first bus stop because the destinations didn’t appeal to me but I decided not to be such a snob today and just let it carry me a little way down the A4 til I could pick up with more familiar routes. I checked the route and it said it was heading down Western Rd, another name for the A4 is the Great Western rd so I assumed they were just saving space on the lamppost by missing out the word Great. I am such a transport vigin! Within 10m of getting on the bus it turned off the A40 and headed back the way I came. ***!**!!!
After an hour of the most miserable run of my life I end up back outside my place of work ready to start the whole commute again. Only this time I’m crying like a baby and swearing never to run this route again. Someone seemed to have messed with my iPod today as well, there was nothing I liked on it except Celia Cruz singing I Will Survive in Spanish, and that appeared too late to save me.
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celeste wrote @ June 21st, 2007 at 1:18 am
I can soooo relate to swallowing a fly. It puts you off for ages, doesn’t it? I’ve also done the whole water bottle thing, and then wished I hadn’t. Apart from the references to A40 (is that a road?) and public transport, I could have written this post myself from Karratha!!!!!
Count this one as a write off - but it still counts as a mental run because you had to go to a lot of effort just to get out there.
Is there any way you can catch a bus part of the way home first, then get off and finish the run for the last 10-15km? Just a thought.
jogblog wrote @ June 21st, 2007 at 7:32 am
Oh dear, sounds like you enjoyed your running commute as much as I did. Running commutes just don’t do it for me, maybe they’re not for you either?
I’m not doing it gain - ever!
Kieron wrote @ June 21st, 2007 at 10:09 am
I swallowed a fly this morning too. I’ll be coughing for the next two days - and to make things worse, I’m vegan! Sorry, you had such a bad run, but I’m sure you don’t really mean you feel like quitting. That’s not allowed.
jason wrote @ June 21st, 2007 at 4:16 pm
I swallowed a fly too whilst kayaking up the Thames the other day! I mean please, I was almost paddling backwards;) I can’t for the life of me understand how much of an irritant those tiny little things can cause…and this was just one! There are literally millions of them along the rivers tow-path this time of year, especially in the evening and my god do they sting when you cycle into a herd of the bastards;) They’re deadly! I can hear & feel them smaking against my cycling glasses and cycle helmet. I try breathing through the gaps in my teeth, but they still manage to get in. I think I will have learn how to cycle backwards in future;)
When’s your birthday? I think I’m going to send you a waterproof/sweatproof/rainproof (wait, nevermind, you have an umbrella!)/grapefruitproof guide to the greater London public transportation system for your birthday. Hopefully you won’t have to use it. I don’t know what you have worse luck with, running or public transportation! Keep at it, eventually you’ll get the whole way home, and then you’ll wonder what all the complaining was about!
PS Flies suck, but why are there so many in London?! It seems like all your commenters are swallowing more flies than air!
Betsy wrote @ June 23rd, 2007 at 2:49 pm
Although it doesn’t quite compare to your “adventure,” my worst run was one last year. My husband and I were planning on running a little over 3 miles. For some reason we started sniping at each other from the get-go, which put me in an evil mood. Then at about a half-mile in I tripped over a root and fell head-first onto the trail. Cut up both hands and seriously bruised my right rib. Although the pain wasn’t too terribly bad, I burst into tears (I think it was more from our fight). Needless to say our run ended there (fortunately we were very close to home).
Hope your next run is a little less “adventuresome” 
jason wrote @ June 24th, 2007 at 12:23 pm
Not forgetting fly-proof too;)
kathy wrote @ June 24th, 2007 at 12:37 pm
There was a warrior woman who swallowed a fly
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly
When she ran by.
Next time I think I’m having a bad run I’ll remember this! I hope your next running commute is more successful.
Roads wrote @ June 25th, 2007 at 10:35 pm
I can really, really relate to those commuting journey nightmares.
In the days before remotely organised cycling, there were still many pieces of my old road bike which were not yet new. If you see what I mean. Namely because they had not (yet) failed and been replaced.
The day my derailleur failed was also, quite auspiciously, the one day in four years on which I had decided to cycle to work in Crawley. Only 27 miles.
I made 17 before there was a clunk followed by a metallic mashing sound as the errant cogs ripped out a couple of spokes in their death agonies.
After uncoupling said stainless steel spaghetti, I made a further miserable half mile in my one remaining (bottom) gear before the same happened, all over again.
Then had to wait an hour for the only taxi which was a) free in rush hour and b) big enough to fit a bike inside.
A lovely trip, all told. 2 hours late (3.5 hours door to door) plus £35 taxi fare. Not to mention the bike repairs (aka rebuilding) and general guffaws as I arrived halfway to lunchtime and plastered in oil.
So much for the de-stressing alternative journey plan.
And, funny you mention it, since I swallowed a fly whilst running last week, as well…
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