An update on one of my previous posts, thirty-five minutes.

You may remember a couple of weeks back, a challenge set by Dennis, my incorrigible housemate. If I run home from work in sub 35 minutes, I will be treated to an all expense paid meal at my beloved Dirty Doulton/Village Belle; where all the lovely lasses of the UK come to work, whilst they backpack in Melbourne. Although the talent working there has recently dwindled (I’m assuming this is because they had to go fruit picking to stay in the country, and will be back for the summer), this is a challenge I am determined to break.

So last night I ran home in a personal best. 37min 41sec. A PB. yeah sure. Sub 35min. not quite. But I’m getting close. So close that it hurts. Both physically and mentally. I’m pretty sure Dennis has some deep seeded sadistic traits, in order to set a challenge like this. Like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey. But in this case, the carrot is a free steak and frites… with a side order of british titties. And the donkey is me. I’m pretty sure il Divo, my other housemate, is quite enjoying seeing the torture.

Last night’s run actually hurt. Dennis may be trying to break my spirit. The pace to break 35 minutes is gut wrenching. I almost vomited. Twice. But I’m not giving up. My couple of years of running, has taught me a few tricks to breaking the pain barrier… Take longer breaths. I don’t know the scientific reason as to why this helps. It just does… Think about the coma incident. If this hurts now, think about the time you were stuck in hospital, weighed 15 kilos less, looked like an 80 year old chinaman, and couldn’t walk 5 meters without falling over… Think about every bitch that broke your heart. There’s nothing like getting over someone than self improvement. And nothing that breaks the pain barrier more than knowing that this pain will subsequently cause them pain when they see what they missed out on (This is all in my head. It just helps with running)..

So although last night I was, in the words of Dennis “close.. but not close enough” (asshole), it did tell me a couple of things. In order for me to beat 35 min, I will need:

1/ For the weather to still be cold. Yesterday evening was fresh, and quite enjoyable to run in. It just makes it so much easier to breathe whilst running, when its cool. Or perhaps I should just quit smoking?…. no no. That’s a terrible idea. cold. It needs to be cold. Which also means I have only a few more weeks to get this done.

2/  Ditch the backpack. There is no way I’m running sub 35, whilst carrying a backpack with my work clothes in it. It weighs, easily, about 5 kilos. Ditching this, should surely make up a couple of minutes. In addition to ditching the extra 5 kilos, I will also be ditching looking like a douchebag. Surely, no longer looking like a douchebag running with a backpack, would account for another minute.

C) A quiet weekend. I just had a look at my times over the last couple of months. There is a definite correlation between how big my weekend has been, and how fast I run. This is also another reason why this challenge will need to be accomplished in the upcoming couple of weeks. It has just turned spring. Spring in Melbourne provokes too many reasons to go on a weekend bender. Warm weather. Footy Finals. Spring Racing. Skirts. Dresses. Skin. The list goes on. So I pretty much have a two week window to get this done.

And with this window closing fairly quickly, I have decided I will not be writing another blog entry until this task has been completed. For the next 2 weeks I will be dedicating myself to breaking 35 minutes. Am I not going to drink? Or party? Or give up smoking darts?… yeah nah I probably still will. But I cant write about anything else till this is done. I suffer from adult ADD. All my attention and energy needs to be focused on accomplishing set task. (I say this, but in reality its just an excuse not to write.. I’ve figured recently I have shit all to write about).

NB: Ha. Will you look at that. I just wrote 700 words without swearing…

Oh wait. Fuck you Dennis.