As discussed when last we met, even during my colossal summer holiday my good work continues, for the world is in a sorry and sorrowful state. And so it is, with war, drought and famine rampaging across the globe, that my training for the 10K continues.
Now, I don’t want to be one of those tedious people who bang on about how fast they ran and how far they did or how much their quads are gluted but sadly that’s who I am and what I’m doing. I ran 8K! I very casually ran 8 kilometres yesterday, completing my move from King Edward of Couch to The Flash. I am full on proper proud and with two months left to go the 10K is looking like your standard piece of your basic piss.
So converted am I to the art of running I bought some actual running shoes, colliding unexpectedly with a classic Zero issue. Turns out veggie trainers are rare, with leather bringing its stink to shoe after shoe. The salesman was at first unimpressed with my self-righteousness, a long, awkward pause following my introduction of the subject. “I’m vegetarian”, I explained. “I have high morals and lofty principles. I believe keenly in the idea that animals need not suffer and die for our food or clothing, and I believe it is the responsibility of every man, woman and child to see that it doesn’t happen. Indeed, it is the responsibility of the cows themselves to see that it doesn’t happen. They should resist. They should rise up as did the apes to overpower Charlton Heston and, to a lesser extent, Mark Wahlberg.”
Long story shortened to a less lengthy and more concise story, he recommended a pair of vegan shoes which he reckons also biodegrade more quickly than other shoes and which he suggested I donate to overseas charities when I’m done with them. What a guy!
Me, not him. Yes yes, the running is still quite the novelty after years of not running, barely walking and generally being fairly disabled. All of which brings us to the gotcha segue into June’s Chazza of the Month. Inspired by myself I’ve sought a charity that helps disabled people in countries where healthcare is lousy, support is shaky and discrimination is rife.
And so we have Handicap International, a charity whose retro name suggests Bernard Manning may be in charge. They appear to do all manner of good stuff, supplying and fitting artificial limbs, offering physio and occupational therapy and promoting inclusion and disability rights, and work throughout the developing world. Figures at the Charity Commission look okay so Handicap International gets this month’s cash wad. You can donate too, right here.