I have this theory that you never really know a city until you run around it hungover. Until you wake up at the crack of dawn, cursing your decision to leave the bar / club midway through and go to a cashpoint – it’s safe to say that only very rarely does such a decision result in success* – shivering in the special cold that is reserved for people foolishly leaving the safety of a warm bed.
0:00 – 2:00 minutes Amazing, because for all your bluster about getting out of bed so early, you’re usually still a little drunk. You chuckle at the commuters that are struggling to hunch their shoulders all the way over their heads to retreat fully from the cold. ‘I only need short shorts and a running shirt!’ you cry as you glide past them. You marvel at the sunlight breaking through the gaps in the buildings, and you bob your head to the tunes playing in your ears (remember, being still slightly drunk, you will have invariably decided to start in the energetic middle of your running playlist).
2:00 – 5:00 minutes You realise that you probably should not have started off running to the Ace of Spades. You also question why the Ace of Spades is even on your running playlist, and realise that drunk you had probably put it on as a joke. You’re starting to get out of breath already and, despite feeling like you had run faster than humanly possible, you’re only about 20% of the way through the run. The first signs of a retch begin in your stomach.
5:00 – 10:00 minutes The hardest part of the run. This was such a fucking awful idea. Running?! After last night? You slow to a halt and squint towards the heavens, bend over with your hands on your knees, then squint towards the heavens again. You begin to question whether you actually did have as many lols as you thought you did last night, and remember that you hadn’t actually managed to get away with not paying for the taxi. Life stops making sense.
10:00 – 18:00 minutes With a renewed sense of guilt, you get into a rhythm again. Suddenly the run brightens up and your lungs feel cleansed of the terribly smoky air. You test a deep breath and it doesn’t make you cough. The run is good! You smile, subconsciously increasing your speed. You throw up at the eighteen-minute mark.
18:00 – 20:00 minutes You notice that you no longer have a headache and that you start feeling good again. Your legs feel strong and you begin the return journey.
20:00 – 30:00 minutes Nothing can stand in the way of your optimism! You play the Ace of Spades again for the final sprint, chuckling to yourself. It’s really not that funny but you’re alone and dehydrated, so you laugh anyway.
*Success, on a night out, is measured as (lols had x sexual success) / (money spent)