Janathon is the beast that continually needs feeding. So despite it being a miserable wet day we felt that a gruelling session of British Military Fitness was in order. We arrived at the designated meeting spot, eager to get down and dirty with the crew.
Despite being two minutes early, it appeared that the BMF team were not there. Either still polishing off the last of the Christmas chocolates or avoiding the deluge.
I was quite sanguine about the wasted trip and quite happy to head back for a night in front of the fire, perhaps with a pyjama plank to show willing but Lynn had other ideas and suggested we brave the weather and take a quick jog around the common.
The observant among you will have noticed the odd use of the word “appeared” in the 2nd paragraph. After all, they either were there or they weren’t.
As it happened, they were.
We were just coming up to our first complete lap of Tooting Bec Common when I spotted a group of tabard wearing folk sitting in a huddle, doing sit-ups in the rain.
Lynn had forgotten her glasses so was pretty much reliant on me for navigation. As I had long since gone off the idea of doing press ups in the mud and refocused my mind on the pork joint slowly roasting in the oven, I took evasive action. Quick as a flash, I conjured an enormous puddle and suggested to Lynn that we take an unusually sharp left turn to avoid it (and coincidentally the British Military Fitness group).
I started the run thinking that BMF were the lightweights but it turns out that it was me and by association, we, that were the softies. It all counts for Janathon though and I’ve notched up another 4k for the beast.