Me and Mrs Jones

In preparation for our “Grand adventure” I have tried to balance out a mixture of cycling, running and core based exercise, not least of all because Oli and I are also participating in the “Toughmudder” on June 9^th near Brighton (www.toughmudder.co.uk) just a wekk after the Paris ride.

Due to injuries past and present I have had to adjust both my running style and the chosen platform to run on. When once, I was a Tarmac eating machine, pounding miles before breakfast with the speed of a Puma and endurance of a horse, I now am NOT! I now see myself more as an ambling goat, stumbling across riverbanks trying my best not to either a) throw-up in a bush, or b) Trip and fall down the riverbank into said bush, all with the style and panache of Britney Spears getting out of a Limo after a night out. I have come to love my new picturesque running routes, it used to be dodging 20 tonne heavy good vehicles on the main road and people gesticulating their annoyance by the fact I feel that I too am allowed to use the road when there is no path to be seen. Now I see new things daily, ducks, cows, birds and nature at its finest, although one time I’m fairly sure I saw a guy dropping trow in the wooded area next to the A10 lay-by (If you are asking, it was a driver for Yodel home delivery).

I truly enjoy running, and, as you may be aware I’m a “kit” man, I love buying the kit. And running is full of it. Whether it be the new Trail running shoes, MP3 players, Calf sleeves or Heart rate monitor, I love it all. But the one thing I couldn’t do without is my Garmin GPS watch. It’s like having a running partner that pushes you just that little further, but, all the while his stupid little pixelated body mocking you at your inability to keep up with the overestimated pace you ambitiously programmed in before you set off. The watch is also the most frustrating part about my run. The anticipation of starting the run, staring at the Garmin, waiting, watching it coming ever closer to being found by the satellite only to have the search bar drop back to the start. And yet, without it, I now feel naked. How will I know if I ran 6.25 or 6.28 miles? It’s now in my nature, I must have the satellites located before I can begin!!! I wish I had some great spiritual thought to connect because this sounds like the beginning of a fantastic analogy, but really, it’s just me being frequently annoyed by my Garmin. But once it’s connected, I’m off and running!

On these rare moments of alone time during my runs I find myself thinking about things that a normal person just wouldn’t. Questions arise in my head such a: “If a Tsunami came over the horizon now, where would I run to, to survive” or “If a Tiger appeared out of that bush/Alligator out of the river what the hell would I do”. Not every day thoughts. Although I know I’m not alone picturing myself in a feel good, action film, running a la Rocky to the soundtrack coming out of my Ipod earphones.

In my life of fun and frolics “T’days are run days”. Meaning, I go running along the riverbank on my lunch break at work Tuesdays and Thursdays. It is a small window of opportunity, but one I can’t pass up if I want to survive my two weeks of physical hell come May. I am just about able to squeeze in a four mile run and shower, then get back to work. One Thursday I was in my office getting stripped down and getting into my running gear.......

*At this point I think I should point out I work in my family’s business (plug: www.wrightkarts.com), with the family dogs also on the premises throughout the day.

.........I was just re-dressing with only my shorts and trainers on when the dogs burst through my office door, unbeknownst to me it wasn’t “Clicked” fully closed. There standing in the doorway was one of my mum’s friends (who was just passing by), she will remain nameless for purposes of anonymity, but I will refer to her as Mrs Jones. Mrs Jones, looked up and squeaked “Oh my......”.

There, through the doorway she was confronted by a glorious sight. A body that would embarrass Michelangelo’s David, backlit by the midday sun trailing through the window. Like a slow motion, high exposure clip out of one of those Hugo Boss adverts...... but better. A sight so amazing it has been known to blind people.

Quickly she turned away and I shut the door, but the damage was done. I continued to don my running kit and left my office, where I again came face to face with Mrs Jones. “It’s been a long time since I have seen a young man with a six pack”. Now, truth be told, I am far from a mighty physical specimen, and in truth not even a good physical specimen, but I do have youth-ish on my side, and an extraordinary metabolism that allows me to consume enough food to power a small continent, and therefore I’m fairly slim. This seemed to be enough for Mrs Jones! Luckily Mrs Jones and myself get on very well, and was able to laugh off any awkwardness, but to this day, she reminds me of that moment and occasionally (constantly) makes pervy “me and misses Jones” type comments, eyeing me up like Nigella Lawson and Chocolate cake or, indeed, Oli eyeing anything made from Carbon Fibre......

Needless to say, I now make sure my office door is shut when I change.

*Mrs Jones. If you are reading this, stop picturing me in your head. I’m a married man!!!!

James