Marathons, Jazz Cats & How I’m Growing to Hate Myself.

So there we are then. I’m going to run a marathon. I’m going to run for an extended amount of time for a film I want to make. I’m already regretting this idea, but it should make a funny mockumentary. Granted, the first four miles (Ha! Miles!) will be the last thing I ever do on this earth, but my legacy shall live on in the form of a short film that maybe a dozen or so of my friends will skim through. If I can find someone to edit it for me. Because I’ll be too dead to do it myself.

I didn’t think it through. I though I could just wing it and not train or anything and it’ll be good enough to get the parts for the character I’m going to play, but then I started writing it and realised I’m going to actually have to do the training and shit to make it believable. I want to run a marathon with no training whatsoever purely for the shiggles (shits and giggles) but I’m going to be playing someone who actually wants to be a runner. granted, he is going to fucking dreadful, but it needs to be believable. I should have come up with an idea for a film about someone who wants to be really good at curling, or the best in the world at having a nice sit-down. Something easy, you know? But no. Once again, I’ve gone and shot myself in the foot.

I just started listening to Jazz. It’s awesome. None of that free-form jazz bollocks. That’s shit. but banging jazz. Charles Mingus it is at the moment and I thank Mosh with all my heart for it. I’m not going to stop making fun of people who like jazz though. I will forever be a closet jazz fan. What’s happened to me? I’m going to train for a marathon I intend on running and I’m listening to Jazz. January Miles would fucking hate February Miles. I’m glad I’m not around to see me. I’d kick right off.

Maybe I’ll end up being the worlds greatest runner. Or jazz musician! Or I can invent a new style of jazz, where you run while playing. It’ll probably sound better than normal jazz. Normal jazz is the only time you’ll hear a song and think “has that trumpet been drinking?” Usually you’d blame the musician, but not with jazz. With jazz it’s always “that brass instrument has had far, far too much gin.”

But back to the marathon. will my drinking affect it? I read that some people die doing it. I hate pulling muscles and I hate getting sweat drip in my eye. Hopefully I’ll die during the training and I can just forget about it.

We can dream, eh?

We can dream.


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