Accidentally kicked a dog.
Moral of the story? Don’t drop ya shoulder to a dog.
Running. Every fucker’s doing it now. Including the admin. I’m not posting my Strava. Or joining a friendly running club. Or videoing myself, just yet. Don’t worry. Still time for a midlife crisis. But admin’s been at it for years. Pounding the pavements well before running influencers were a thing. Well before everyone started posting about VO2 max. And well before anyone got their running gait checked. Fuck’s that about? A running hipster, if you will. Had a few months off, though. Dadmin life and all that. Back into it now with a 20 mile charity run pencilled in. Hammies are already screaming. Telling me to grow the fuck up. And they’ve got a point, to be fair. Gotta shift the chippy tits somehow, though. So training’s started.
I won’t be going on about training blocks. Or tapering. I’ll be listening to the body. And doing what feels right. Nowt complicated. Nowt daft. Unless Runna wanna sponsor us. Might change my tune then. Sell my soul. But right now, I’m just running the streets of Stockport. Three times a week, hopefully. A short fast one. A mid steady as you go one. And a long one. Increasing the distance every week. Not arsed about times. Or splits. Nahhh. Just happy getting round without pulling a hammy. Without kicking anymore dogs. Yeah, that’s happened. Once. The other night. Didn’t mean to. Honestly. But here’s what happened.
I’m 10k into a 12k run. Blowing out my arse. Legs fucked. Pins and needles in my left trotter. Headphones in. Plodding along a narrow, muddy path. Some owd woman’s ahead. With a dog off its lead. Fair enough. No harm there. She’s one side of the path, dog t’other. Recall non-existent. Dog could’ve been deaf. But i doubt it. Just stubborn. Or shite training. We’ll go with the latter. Can’t be blaming a dog. Be harsh that.
Anyway, I get within 5 meters of the pair of ‘em. Expecting either the dog to move, or the owd woman to move over. Neither did. Now i’m not stopping. Nahh. Otherwise wouldn’t get going again. Instead i’ve dropped the shoulder. Sent the dog the wrong way. And ghosted past like nowt’s happened. Still got it. Problem is, dog’s got a bit excited. A bit giddy. Thought i was playing. I wasn’t. Just wanted to get past. So it’s darted after us. But I didn’t realise. Didn’t see or hear it behind us. I felt it, though. Its wet, muddy fur on’t back of my calf. Bit of dribble. Followed by its jaw ont’ back of my heel. Shock to the system that. For us both. Sit downnnn. I felt bad, won’t lie. Owner didn’t have a clue. Probably picking up a pile of shite or somet’. Dog was reyt, though. I think. Scuttled off feeling sorry for itself. Tail between its legs.
Moral of the story? Don’t drop ya shoulder to a dog. Makes ‘em giddy.
Did the same to a badger once.
Belter’ this lad