Wednesday, September 22, 2004
What am I doing here?
Or
Running with 649 David Brents. The story of my Sunday.
Why did I agree to do this? Running 8km dressed in a gorilla suit with hundreds of office jokers (thinking that a terrorist attack would probably improve the productivity of all these people’s workplaces). With no training. Needless to say, it was pretty horrendous; if it wasn’t the extreme heat it was the tiny eye holes or the fact that you could hear little apart from your own breathing, or the incessant whooping and shrieking by the crazy guys gambolling around the course. It was too long, and by the last three years of it any fun had completely disappeared. If that wasn’t bad enough, my Dad (a man who you’d call “Ian”* even if it wasn’t his name) revealed a previously concealed streak of unexpectedness by bringing along two inflatable Shrek donkeys – “By carrying these we’ll be able to recognise each other…” “Brilliant. Thought it’d be too easy otherwise, even with this poncho I unthinkingly brought along.”
Still, I’m glad I did it, even if I wouldn’t consider doing it again. Thank you to everyone who sponsored me, if you’d like to chip in then you still can…
Oh, and we saw Robert Vaughn from out of The Magnificent Seven on the way back. “Hey! You’re in a DVD sitting on a shelf above my stereo! And you were in the Man from Uncle. I preferred David McCallum as Illya Kuryakin really, but you were pretty cool.” I didn’t excitedly yell.
* No offence to any Ians out there. You know I love you all.
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Or
Running with 649 David Brents. The story of my Sunday.
Why did I agree to do this? Running 8km dressed in a gorilla suit with hundreds of office jokers (thinking that a terrorist attack would probably improve the productivity of all these people’s workplaces). With no training. Needless to say, it was pretty horrendous; if it wasn’t the extreme heat it was the tiny eye holes or the fact that you could hear little apart from your own breathing, or the incessant whooping and shrieking by the crazy guys gambolling around the course. It was too long, and by the last three years of it any fun had completely disappeared. If that wasn’t bad enough, my Dad (a man who you’d call “Ian”* even if it wasn’t his name) revealed a previously concealed streak of unexpectedness by bringing along two inflatable Shrek donkeys – “By carrying these we’ll be able to recognise each other…” “Brilliant. Thought it’d be too easy otherwise, even with this poncho I unthinkingly brought along.”
Still, I’m glad I did it, even if I wouldn’t consider doing it again. Thank you to everyone who sponsored me, if you’d like to chip in then you still can…
Oh, and we saw Robert Vaughn from out of The Magnificent Seven on the way back. “Hey! You’re in a DVD sitting on a shelf above my stereo! And you were in the Man from Uncle. I preferred David McCallum as Illya Kuryakin really, but you were pretty cool.” I didn’t excitedly yell.
* No offence to any Ians out there. You know I love you all.
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