Guilty thoughts

The endless endless running that is required to prepare for a marathon provides plenty of time to think, ideally about anything not related to jogging.

Over eight miles of painful terrain today, I was pre-occupied with DNA evidence, which seems to be the cornerstone of every major crime trial today.

And whenever there is a trial, there seems to be an expert saying that the chances of the recovered DNA having come from anyone other than the accused, are about one billion to one.  Fair enough; bang them up for life.

But hang on a minute; there are more than six billion people on the planet so statistically the chances of having the right man are slightly less than one in six.

And if you are a mass murder living in India, then there is every likelihood that someone with matching DNA lives in the same country as you. In fact if you are a mass murderer living in Bhopal there is a good chance that someone with matching DNA lives less than 600 miles away.

That’s almost an alibi.

I think my brain is being over-jogged.

Wait for me

OK, ok I know it’s a few days since my last update but remember it’s a marathon not a sprint.

Keeping a blog about jogging going for three months saps the creative juices. I get changed, I go out, I run, I come back, I shower. That’s it.

In fact having thought long and hard I can’t recall one interesting thing has happened to me while I’ve been out running. Given that I am now spending at least 12 hours a week plodding around the countryside you might expect I would have chanced upon some incident or object of note. But no nothing, nada. Not even an oversized rabbit to tell my grandchildren about.

Actually that kind of sums this whole experience up. Large distances covered, little purpose served.

Yes, I know that at the end of it, charity will have benefited and I will have lost weight, but next year I’m going to have liposuction and write the RNIB a cheque instead.

Woohoo I’m a slightly less Fat Man

Today, exactly a month after my first training run, I weighed in at 13 stone 13lbs – a stone and 4lbs lighter than when I began this torture.

And I am starting to feel more confident that I might actually do this thing. What I no longer know is what happens after I cross the finish line, or at least finish in the marathon. I thought it would be straight down the chippie and then the pub, but the whole jogging, eating vegetables and staying sober thing, is kind of addictive.

I might have to join Fitness Anonymous.