Brace yourselves. Yesterday, I started C25K. I found a treadmill plan, because no way in hell was I inflicting these jiggly bits on the general public. I was in shock for most of the day. I ran. I. Ran. Not the 'Flock of Seagulls' song. I ran. Unheard of this year, this decade, this millenium even. Probably the last time I ran was when that particular song was in the Top 40.
Lying in bed last night, I was still a little stunned.
Me: I ran. *I shake my head* I actually ran.
Mr G: I know. You've gone from Mo Slater to Mo Farah overnight.
Me: *silence for a few moments as this sentence registers* Which Mo Slater do you mean?
Mr G: *quickly* Little. Little Mo.
Both: Good save, Grundy. Good save.
*Silence for a few minutes*
Mr G: Thank f**k there was a little one...