Actually, this is the first time I've been running in Nowheresville for years. Fed up with the small college gym, which was always full of the rugby jocks, I got into the habit of just running out of the back of college and through the science labs until I reached the village of Coton (sure to be pronounced "coh-un" given it's in the coun'ry), which sits in pride of place next to the world's most budgety motorway. I went to the more picturesque village of Litte FamousTeaRooms on a couple of occasions but was convinced I was going to get killed by the people who drive to the village in as crazy a manner as I do.
This was 2004, though, and I had yet to discover the joys of podcasts and I couldn't quite keep myself entertained just by listenig to music for more than about 30 minutes. In fact, I'm amazed I survived without podcasts as long as I did - I used to use the same playlist while running or at the gym, week after week, making only a few tweaks every so often. Now, I'm so used to being educated or entertained while running that I couldn't imagine doing it without a podcast (the possible exception being New York, where the cityscape is enough for me). Let's just say that I'm not exactly Thoreau or Emerson when it comes to quiet contemplation or reflection; no, I need constant aural or visual stimulation.
In any case, showered and changed, I now feel chilled out and as though I have earned a drink to go with my lunch with PhD Linguist. I am just hoping that I make it through the landfill site that the grass next to the fairground is bound to have become. Maybe I'll go the long way.
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