Running Club

Humpty Dumpty, eh? Did you know the rhyme was originally a riddle? Are you interested? A humpty-dumpty was slang at the time for a clumsy, maladroit person. But if such a person was to fall off a wall he probably wouldn't be so hard to put back together again as it is in the rhyme, unless it's a riddle. Do you care? I don't, to be honest. I just brought it up because I've long had suspicions about the involvement of all the king's horses in the attempt to save the poor fellow.

For one thing, they don't have opposable thumbs. This in itself isn't, I suppose, such a big thing as most, if not all of the king's men probably did have them, and at least one of theses blokes was likely to be a surgeon. Or at least very dextrous and confident in critical moments.

But what skills could a horse bring to such a situation? Whether HD is a person or an egg, which it turns out is the answer to the riddle (those 18th century riddlers were a riot, weren't they? Proper head-scratchers they came up with, too), it seems a little daft to rely in any way on horses to be helpful in his/its recovery.

I care even less, now that I've thought about it a bit more. Also, it's reminded me of my disappointment when I found out, after all these years searching (somewhat lacklustredly, I admit) for the answer to the big question, that - of all things - the hokey cokey turns out to be what it's all about. And it's not even mentioned in the bible. At least, not directly. It's alluded to in the bit where Jeremiah viciously takes the piss out of an albino for not being able to do the 'mash potato' without frowning, I think.

This has nothing, of course, to with my training for the marathon. But it is helping me put off writing about my first running club experience tonight.

Not that it was rubbish, nor great. It was just a little disappointing. The woman who runs it, Sarah, said a couple of things that stuck, and gave me hope. She obviously knows a fairly scary amount about the whole running thing, and has a very matter-of-fact and quietly amusing way of putting stuff. But necessarily this stuff - the ins and outs of getting fit for running like someone who's not totally out of his depth and on the verge of conclusive embarassment and shame by dying after 6 miles of flapping like a terrified swan - must be shared amongst others, the rest of the people attending the running club.

And I will not accept anything less than complete and exclusive attention.

Hmm. Might have to set my sights a bit lower. If I could afford it I would massage my insecurities and lack of ability and understanding of the necessary discipline by procuring a PERSONAL TRAINER. Someone with the patience, for an agreed fee, of a saint, probably.

Still, 3 miles eh? I could hear Vangelis humming along as I pounded down the high street, desperately hoping nobody I know spotted me. I reckon this marathon lark has been blown out of some proportion.

It's gonna be a piece of cake. Yes indeed.