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Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Roadrunner 

She goes for the tuna salad and a carton of orange juice. I plump for a cheese and pickle sandwich and some fizzy water that comes out of your nose if you drink it too soon after opening the bottle.

“So what do you like about jogging?” Diana asks.
“I just really like the way it makes you feel when you’ve done it. The running itself is, at best, sort of OK. It helps clear out the crap that’s been accumulating in your head.”
“It must be treacherous running behind you then.”
“Don’t interrupt when I’m bullshitting. About half an hour after you’ve stopped, that’s the best bit. Actually, I read a good quote in the Guardian the other week that sums it up well.” I remove a scuffed up piece of paper from my trouser pocket and put on my best reading voice.
“It’s about the London Marathon but I think it applies equally well to…”
“Just read the bloody thing.”

“Ahem… The real star of the London Marathon is an Everyman struggling to win “a pointless but wonderful victory over mental doubt and bodily frailty.””
“And you identify with the pointless bit? I can see why you wrote it down. A description of jogging as a metaphore for blogging. Neat.”
“Oh yeah, something else I made a note of. Fastest time for a pantomime horse - 4 hours 37 minutes.”
At which point orange juice comes out of her nose.

This is what is known as “a result”.

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