Why I run 

A lot of friends and family ask me why I run. Usually when I’m hobbling around with yet another injury (I have the left ankle of a goldfish!). I usually give them these few answers…. 
Running is fun

For me and I bet most of you reading, running is a bloody good laugh, there is nothing better than chewing the fat with your mates and talking absolute bollocks on a Sunday morning long run. (although some of my club mates think it’s acceptable to start long runs at 6am, they don’t get the normal witty chat, just all the swears). 


Garmin, suunto, Tom Tom… Apple watches (😂) we all wear them, we all stand outside our homes with a hand in the air like a demented person waiting for GPS signal, we all know that you can’t finish a run on 9.99 miles (up and down the street for you my friends till you hit ten). 

People love gadgets, like magpies the shinier the better! Remember if it’s not on Strava it didn’t happen! 


You have a shit day at work, get home strap on those shoes and get out there and soon enough nature’s little drug pats you on the head and everything is OK in the world (don’t worry if you still want to kill your colleague a little nobody’s perfect). 

Seeing the world. 

Running can take you far and wide, especially in the UK. The mountains of the lakes. The wonders of the capital, laps of a sewage works, hey if there is a medal I’m there! 

Last but not least. 

I run for one simple reason, not for PB, not for health reasons but for one simple little thing, one thing people have run after for years (no not lycra bums you mucky sods) I run for 




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