Harris Sportsthoughts

Thoughts about Sport


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I became a runner about six weeks ago. My little sister threw down the gauntlet and in an act of misplaced bravado I picked it up and slapped her in the face with it. Now I’m racing in the Barcelona marathon in March.

To train I’m running home from work most nights along the Grand Union canal. I might have to plot another route though. As the nights get longer the towpath is beginning to resemble a location from Crimewatch. I’m definitely going to get raped down there. There’s even a grubby tent pitched among the undergrowth on the canalside. A badger lives in a sett. A fox lives in an earth. A rapist lives in a tent by the canal.

Currently my right leg hurts. It’s like Joe Pesci put it in a vice and is screaming at it to find out where the loot is. I feel bad that I dragged my legs into this sorry escapade, but I don’t think I can do this without them. To make it easier for them, I went to a special trainer shop where the helpful staff put you on a treadmill and film you at it. They make most of their profits from submissions to You’ve Been Framed.

The video was enlightening. The shoe operative discovered that I am overpronating onto my right foot which is putting my knee and hip out of alignment. I discovered that my slender ankles and enormous feet together make a bizarre-looking combination when committed to film.

I now have new trainers to help me run properly. It’s always a good start when attempting to run a marathon.

P.S. I know it’s a cliche to write a blog about this sort of thing. But the Ashes is a month away and I refuse to talk about Wayne Rooney. So sorry.


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