Have you ever had a moment in your life when you knew you were f*cked?
Not just in a bit of strife, but completely and overwhelmingly rooted beyond what you can ever handle?
You might like to invest in a personal trainer then. After one short sharp session, you will surely know what this feeling is like!
So here's me, confident as Jack the Lad that just by sheer determination and a few good iPod songs in my ears that I can run for 14 km. Uphill. With 1000's of other people around me. And a TV crew at the end.
What a wanker!
Rob the friendly, smiling Kiwi trainer that Paul uses and who already knows I am a retarded runner because I think I'm Cathy Freeman says all the right things.
'You look athletic, what sport do you do?'
'It won't take much to get you back to the fitness level you had when you were younger.'
'I just want to take it easy with you and gradually build up your strength.'
What I didn't realise is that New-Zealandish is a foreign language because what he really meant was:
'Even though it looks easy you'll feel like throwing up and won't be able to walk for 3 days. Oh, and did I mention I can't count for shit. Just 5 more squats for me.'.....4........3........2.....3 more and we're done.
WHAT THE F#CK???!!!