Got to the hotel tonight to find roads closed due to a half marathon. Previously this would have really pee'd me off due to hassle of parking etc etc.
This time I found myself sat in my hotel room watching folk.
How were they running? Were they heel or flat or toe? Were they side to side arms or back and forth?
And then he appeared.
A 'slightly portly' chap in a one piece spandex type thing with a beetroot face and a 'shoot me now' expression.
And he was walking and using his last dying breaths to place one foot in front of the other.
I don't know this guy and I never will but at that moment, unbeknownst to him I bonded with him. Inside I cheered for him. Mentally I shook his hand and hugged him.
Years back I scoffed at people like him thinking 'give it up mate'.
Now I understood.
He was doing it for him. He was out there putting one foot forward and repeating. Speed didn't matter.
Bloody good for him.
This C25K should come with a life changing warning
To all you spandex 'portly' plodding joffler's out there.
Here's to us.