I promised myself tonight that I’d not run, that I’d take it easy on myself. Easy enough to do until you get a phone call asking if you fancy a game of football.
Still being twelve years old inside, I jumped at the chance of a kickabout and whilst I was little use beyond the first five minutes (truth be told I was little use in the first five, but I tired quickly and got worse) it was nice to be exercising without just pounding a pavement. Being a lot older than twelve on the outside, my limbs feel like they’re paying for it now.
Yes I forgot my football boots and had to wear trainers, yes the bib was snug round my waistline and yes I all round looked like the school kid who you didn’t even want to pick when he was the only one left, but it was great fun. Hopefully I can make it a regular fixture to break up the training a bit. Tomorrow will be a late one round the mean streets of Ashington after an amazing low key gig in Sunderland with Kai Humphries and Nathan Caton (get in touch for details), and it’ll seem tame in comparison, but I need to get the miles in.
For now, I’m happy I got out and exercised. I’ve got new muscles aching that I never feel just running. As sore as it is, there’s a slight buzz that accompanies the pain. Almost as if it’s a not so gentle reminder of a job well done.