I've got the runs!

Regular readers will know that I've foolishly signed up for a 10k run towards the end of June, and have been training hard over the last couple of months. And by training hard I mean that I did a few runs, thought "blimey, this is a bit tiring," and decided to watch some episodes of The OC instead.

Anyway, I went for another practise run with Sweatband, my comrade in public displays of heavy breathing on Saturday morning, and while we posted a decent time for a 5k-ish distance, she still thinks I'm a filthy slacker who is going to feign a broken leg to get out of it.

DAMN! She's seen through my cunning plan!

(I should explain that Sweatband is a bit hardcore; she's just entered the Great Northern Run for crying out loud. I swear she'd run past Paula Radcliffe and push the big cry-baby over into a puddle of her own piss)

So, today, Sweatband has been giving me a bit of grief. Think of it as her being Supernanny, and me being the foul-mouthed, crying, snot-nosed brat who has been banished to the naughty step. To be honest though, I think she's got a point. I have been slacking a little lately, and I do think I should get back into the flow of it.

Actually, I was just thinking about it while I ate my southern fried chicken and chips. And I thought about it a bit more while I polished off that golden syrup pudding from M&S (two for 99p - bargain!).

I might even think about it while I'm watching the telly later.

Oh bugger it - the gym it is then.

Bah!