The Jog Blog

So it’s all that Elizabeth Harris’ fault. Am not good at not following through on ideas (hers) but am jogging for the doggies (guide) for the Manchester 10k. My nan had a guide dog: the yogi bear.

This blog may publicly humiliate me into completing the barnados plan (and not spelling publicly like pubically) which, have looked ahead, includes something athletic for 75 minutes. That’s quite upsetting. So far, I very much like the rest days.

Day 1

Half an hour jog to and from chippy. Required lengthy break before the ginger rice thingy. Not the best idea ever. Still, managed. Complain to bloke about legs being broken. He comments that haven’t broke a sweat so I haven’t worked hard enough. Place ‘L’ sign to my head at him when he’s in the kitchen. He sees.

Day 2

Buy snazzy, motivating jog clothes in TK Maxx. Not the tight ones. Male shopping assistant asks if I’m a dancer. I quite want to pretend I am. Don’t.

Day 3

Jog to post box and what not. Post back the love film (Brave, mde me feel sick). Two birds etc. getting bored of Bridget Jones style blog style. This is the, er, 10’s. Irene Kara plays on the radio. Rest day tomorrow = warm, fuzzy glow. Agree to go on BBC radio tomorrow. Jog to Preston?