I did the shorter 3.5 mile version of my route round south Wimbledon last night and my legs are still getting used to running again after a week’s break. At 6.30 last night while rush hour was still in full flow (or not flowing as the case should be) it was nice to jog past queues of cars that weren’t moving and think ‘My legs might ache a bit, but at least I’m getting home’.
I tried to look at the faces of the drivers in the cars and imagine the frustrations that I often felt as a driver while stuck in traffic that wasn’t moving and it immediately made me feel better about being the one jogging along, slowly but surely.
Having been the proud owner of a H reg Peugeot 205 for many years, I know that a rusty, old clutch can cause almost as much lactic acid to build up in the old calf muscles as a short 2-miler. So all in all jogging wins over driving – well for short trips around London anyway.
I’m not sure how I’d fare London to Manchester, and I probably wouldn’t be too impressed if a guy ‘picked me up’ for a date in a pair of running shoes, but then thoughts like that wouldn’t have got me through that tricky second mile.