Week 10: Working 9-5 what a way to make a living

As the great philosopher Dolly Parton once wrote: “Tumble outta bed, And stumble to the kitchen, Pour myself a cup of ambition, Yawnin, stretchin, try to come to life. Jump in the shower, And the blood starts pumpin, Out on the streets” Working 9-5.

Clearly dear old Dolly did not train or compete in a marathon, well at least not to my knowledge, although I will have to double check that on her wiki page... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolly_Parton. The answer is NO she didn’t!!!

I’m sorry Dolly, try training for a marathon then those lyrics will have more significance!

Glad I have got my rant out of the way now…

Training for the marathon is certainly taking its toll now. I have resorted to a few runs early in the morning – I say a few runs, I have done this twice. I’m no hero!

With working 9-5 (excuse the pun) and the weather being pretty damn rubbish it is getting harder and harder to find the motivation to put on my shorts and go out running on the mean streets of Brighton. Unlike Panther Dan, who can be seen prowling (not in a weird way, OK, a slightly weird way) around the Saltdean area most nights accompanied by Panther Lee, I tend to do most of my training in the gym. Its not all vests and steroids I can assure you! In fact, I personally think this is a very dangerous way to train.

Let me explain... I am Mister Clumsy. Just the other week, while minding my own business running on the treadmill, a slight accident occurred. I noticed, as I was running, that there were some dumbbells left on the side of the treadmill. At the time I didn’t think anything of this. Oh boy, was I wrong! So, I’m running, getting into the groove, listening to my music, when suddenly, the weight drops down onto the treadmill and flys off the back! I remember thinking to myself at the time “that was lucky, because that could have caused me a serious injury, let alone some embarrassment”! Then the second weight drops - Kablam!! - right on my shin! With my shin throbbing, I will admit the old eyes began to water somewhat. Just when I thought things could not get any worse, my Ipod fell out of my pocket, bounced on the treadmill and shot off the back. THEN, with a throbbing shin, a red face and a slight tear still in my eyes, it was my natural instinct to stop. But stupidly, I forgot to tell the treadmill this... you can guess what happened next. Feeling like a prize wally, I picked myself up, brushed myself down and proceeded to do the very British thing… look around to make sure that no one had seen my moronic antics...

So there you have it, the gym IS an extremely dangerous place to train!!!

<= Simon aka Mister Clumsy