A bad case of the runs
I've had an idea.Yes, I know, that's me done for the week and, yes, once again it was nothing to do with work.
Anyway, as I was on my long run home tonight, a young man raced past me. His head was held high and he was not, like some other runners in the vicinity (who may or may not have been me)panting, doubled over and seriously considering stopping for a nice vomit.
Now you may be thinking that this was because the man was younger, fitter and (although this may not be entirely relevant) better looking than me.
But no. I have come to the conclusion that it was because, whilst I was on mile five of a six mile run, he was fresh and sprightly on the first half of a quick one-mile sprint.
The thing is, we'll never know will we? And more importantly, Johnny Whippet had no way of knowing I had very good reasons to be going so slowly unrelated to our respective fitness levels.
Hence my idea, which is thus...
A tabard, which connects to a pedometer and which has a digital display in the style of a runners number on the front and back.
At the start of the run, you put in how many miles you intend to run, which shows on the front of the tabard.
Underneath this is a second number, set at 0, which shows how many miles you actually have run.
So this invention serves two purposes.
1. The return to fashion of the tabard, which has been long overdue since the middle ages; and
2. The ability for runners to know exactly how far their fellow runners have gone, and how far they intend to go, thus preventing unwarranted smugness from the running community (this doesn't cover the smugness towards non-running fatties of course. But that's a good thing).
I think it's genius. But as usual, am too lazy to develop, raise funds for or even properly think through the idea.
So any takers - the usual 10% rule applies.
posted by Peter The Great @ 6:57 PM
6 Comments:
<< That probably makes me a petty show-off>>
Of that, there can surely be little doubt.
I think that you have a system rather more like motorway signs where the message can be changed according to the situation. For example when about to be overtaken you could have the message 'you might be fast but I bet you're ugly/stupid/etc',or after having overtaken someone you could have 'so long, fatty'. More fun, no?
What is all this running madness? I bet when Wimbledon is on, you same people are busy being smug and useless on all the tennis courts of London. Running is bad for your joints and can be bad for your general health (particularly if you sit around doing nothing all day and then suddenly punish yourself running several miles one or two evenings a week). You're also extremely annoying to those out for a nice healthy walk, when you appear from nowhere and scare the life out of us. Runners make me angry and this pathetic snobbery about who runs about looking like a twat for the longest/furthest makes me sick. You're all vacuous. And men look stupid when they run. So there.
Oh yes, and when your friend Tina said in her blog that she attended a '... Midsummer's party in Geneva with Dean and his girlfriend Nina's circle of Swedish friends' I almost wept. I must send this to Private Eye for Pseuds Corner! I couldn't be bothered to read the rest of that pretentious twaddle - sorry!
Dear Anonymous,
re. running madness. First up, the running madness is partly driven by the fact that, thanks to London's fine public transport system, it is usually marginally quicker to run the distance than get a bus/train/rickshaw. Secondly, running is indeed bad for the joints, you're right there. But so's being a fat cunt. As for disturbing your walk, sorry about that, but think of it as training. Your increased sensitity to ambush may save you from a brutal murder/raping some day, at which point you'll thank us. And finally not only are you correct in saying men look stupid when they run, if you ever say me, you'd know I look even stupider than average when I run. However, I look stupid when I walk, sit or stand too, so it is something I have learned to live with.
And finally, I advise caution when abusing Satellite Tina. She has infested her blog with tracking capabilities and may well be directing some Swedish Mafia heavies (you get buried in a flat-pack coffin) in your direction right now.
Ah Mr The Great, I look forward to it. You may already have worked out that I like a fight. I also like anonymously abusing other peoples' friends - but we all have our crosses to bear.
However I still believe that joggers fall into two distinct categories; twats and Americans.
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