The irony of running

Posted: 18/03/2013 in Laughingly Called Training, Running

So, 18 miles tonight, thank you. Fairly pleased with myself, although wondering if I’ll ever walk like a normal boy again.

However, this isn’t about me, it’s about The Running. The Irony Thereof in this instance.

When I run, I get muddy feet – not just because of mud, in fact more often due to a good dirty puddle. You can bet I’ll find one – if I ran inside on track, you could be sure the world would conspire that some hard working cleaning operative would spill their bucket of dirty water on the track just in front of me

Why is it, that the bit that most often gets muddy (the feet) is also the last part you want to be having to reach out and clean during a post run shower?

Is that irony? I’m not sure, but it does feel like it. Maybe it’s spite? Tonight I took off what looked like a relatively clean and dry pair of socks only to discover my feet had turned black. For a moment I thought they’d mutinied and done themselves in, but no, it was good old fashioned dirt. I only ran through one puddle, and that was only because it was actually blocking my way forward and there was no way around it.

I nearly broke in half bending over to scrub the blighters. Next time I’ll just leave ’em, see how they like that.


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