I went for my first run today. It wasn’t enjoyable. I despise exercise and only do it to try and look good.
People who say ‘oh I ran 4k today, it really cleared my head’, absolutely baffle me. I think they are absolutely off their tits.
If I want to clear my head I get so mortal that I cant remember anything.
The only good thing about my run, (or ‘run’ I should say) was that it was at Gloucester Park. Gloucester Park is one of those places that you have in your life that will always be connected to you in some way. Some of my first memories are there. Either going to the firework display (which we packed in when we realised we could watch it in the warm from my window – for free), or the fair. Or swimming. Due to my fear of the water my Mum took me to a swimming class, which she promptly stopped when I spent the entire session clinging to her with my nails dug in so hard she still has scars now.
When I got my first job, I had to walk though Gloucester Park to get there. Well, as long as it was light, just in case I was accosted by Geese or murderers. Although I wasn’t accosted by any murderers, I did get chased by Geese a few times, much to the amusement of the fisherman. I would also walk this way if it was raining. I have a theory that murderers don’t come out in the rain. I mean, I know for certain that if I looked out of the window and it was hammering it down, I’d be like ‘no, not going out murdering in that. Have to do double tomorrow…maybe a couple’.
This park is also what I had to walk through to get home to stay at my Mums from the flat I lived in with my ex, which became very frequent when I realized that I enjoy living with him about as much as I’d enjoy being repeatedly kicked in the vagina while listening to Cliff Richard.
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