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I went out for an early morning run with my personal trainer, hoping to do a 10km run (ahead of the 21km I need to do in November). Having a running partner and a very fit one at that really upped the pace, but I more or less managed to keep up. Last week Me1 did 9.5km in about 71minutes, but we hit that distance at under the hour mark and then carried on for some way, notching up nearly 13km in a 80 and a bit minutes. Turns out that’s about eight miles. So that was a very good start to the day and very encouraging in terms of getting to 13 miles in four months. I am hoping I can do 13 miles at a decent pace too. But my bones are old and there’s plenty of time to pick up an injury, so despite this excellent start we’re not there yet.
Of course back in London when I was last properly fit I was running about 7 miles in around 55 minutes, but this 8 miles is the furthest I’ve run, probably since my last half marathon back in, what was it? 2014? Jeez. This is the furthest I’ve run since Brexit. Maybe Brexit happened because I wasn’t running far enough.
Round to the in-laws for lunch and the kids suddenly wanted to listen to the Annie (2014) soundtrack for the first time in a while. When the Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow came on I remembered the mornings of them dancing to this song at breakfast time in early first lockdown and welled up a little bit. Maybe I haven’t quite processed lockdown yet. But that’s probably good as there will probably be another one or ten to get through.
My day was otherwise dominated by a bit of ridiculousness on Twitter where someone suggested a title for my possible one ball stand up show. He thought Never Mind The Bollock might be good. I told him I was considering Never Mind My Bollock, but added that I didn’t need anyone else to suggest titles. This always happens every time this comes up and the same titles always come up and if there are any new ones then they are always shit. So in an attempt to cut that off at the pass I explained that I didn’t want suggestions and that I would block anyone who gave one. People still did it, so I warned them again. People carried on and then I blocked some and unblocked them to send out a warning shot. But it went on so long and the suggestions were all so shit or insulting (only in terms of the fact that I am a comedian, so if you really didn’t think that I would have thought of the most basic ball pun then you don’t think much to me. I was aware that people were enjoying doing it because it was irritating and thus funny to do the opposite of what I’d asked. I felt that after sufficient warnings I had to make good on my threat and started blocking everyone. But still they came.
I was pretending to be more annoyed than I really was (though it is a ballache- good title - to have to go through his patronising charade. I CAN COME UP WITH MY OWN TITLE- and it actually felt really bad to be blocking people who were clearly fans and who thought I was bluffing. But what could I do?
It was actually more upsetting that people had so little regard for my Twitter stream that they were prepared to throw it away for the sake of jokes that were either obvious or bollocks (get it?). It was a pretty fun Twitter spectacle for the few people who didn’t get blocked though.
