Riccardo's useless Marathon blog

Pains and gains of my training.


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The day has finally come. Day one. DAY ONE! Feels great just saying it. Just saying it though, because living it is a nightmare. I’ll give you a wee summary of it.

  • 00:00 – Last drop – Drinking
  • 00:30 – Bar Salsa – Drinking
  • 01:00 – Sneaky Pete’s – Drinking
  • 04:00 – Pizza Paradise – Eating & Drinking
  • 15:30 – Home – Waking up hungover
  • 16:00 – Home – Killing the hungover playing FIFA
  • 18:00 – Home – Feeling shit because of the hungover and because I am shit at FIFA
  • 19:30 – Gym – Humiliating myself on a running machine
  • 20:30 – Grassmarket – Crawling to the flat
  • 21:00 – Home – Eating unhealthy food as a reward
  • 21:30 – Home – Not feeling my legs and updating this stupid blog

So, long story short, I got to the gym full of good intentions but evidently good intentions aren’t enough.

Me, walking to the gym, like a boss

First I stepped onto a broken treadmill, then I had to wait something like ten minutes, ten neverending minutes, for a fat guy to get off the one he was using and when I finally managed to run the 3,1 miles I had to run I realized that the treadmill worked with kilometres and not miles. So, full of enthusiasm, I had to jump back on it and run 2 more stupid kilometres.

The stupid treadmill that pretends to work with miles but works with kilometres instead

It took me less than half an hour to run the 5 kilometres I had to run and a lot of sweat and curses but apart from the not-feeling-my-legs thing I was pretty satisfied. Getting back home though wasn’t an easy job as I can’t still feel my legs now that I’ve been on the sofa for a good hour but I bought some nice greasy, fatty, unhealthy food from the chippy and I am pretty happy, all things considered.

A healthier replica of the awesome kebab I had for dinner

Yes, happy. Especially because the gym was full of clunge. And that’s always good. Always good.


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