The London Marathon

Every time the London Marathon jogs around I watch it via the BBC, the sofa and a cup of tea, feeling vaguely unfit and rather slobby. All those shiny faced healthy people out there in the sun/rain/hail, and I only have to look in the mirror to see the contrast – I look grey. *puts on kettle, grabs snuggy jumper*

The thing is – I cannot actually jog. It really isn’t my thing. I have made two attempts at jogging – one at University where I think I wavered to a gasping stop at the top of my road, and once around the large block here where I live when I got terribly embarrassed by builders whistling after me, probably because I looked like I was about to keel over.

If I could train in secret, and then pop out on the pavements already a fully fledged jogger, then perhaps it would be better rather than hitting the road as a wheezing mess. The only problem is then finding an accessible gym that I can a) afford and b) go regularly enough to make it worthwhile. If I could find ‘A’ then ‘B’ wouldn’t be a problem – I quite like the gym in a weird sort of way, when I live near one. There is a spit and sawdust gym down the road that I poked my head into when we moved here, and a bloke with no neck told me that if I didn’t mind being the only female then I was welcome to join… I decided to give it a miss.

But back to the race of the day – they announced that entries for the 2009 London Marathon would be open at midday (although already open, so it looks), and my imagination leapt into over-drive. I can do it! Why not – look at those healthy happy people! Oh – ignore that one being helped away… look at the rest! And then I came to my senses – it would take me much longer than a year to prepare for running 26 miles and those odd yards that lay in wait to bite you at the very end. Can someone of no actual ability run a marathon?

Then again, perhaps I should start small – there is a ladies 5k jog around London in September – 5k sounds easy enough. Oh – 3.125 miles. So I could practice that by jogging to my mum’s, which is 4 miles away. *Looks outside window, pointless exercise as cannot see my mum’s house from here*

Hmm. I might make a bacon sandwich and retire back to the sofa to consider it more…