ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
With the guilt of a two-month long pig out resting on his conscience, Mike Jung decided enough was enough and set himself a goal of getting fit.
The mildly-successful Betoota Ponds buyers agent downloaded the FatTwoFive app to his rapidly slowing iPhone 4 yesterday morning and visited his local Cucklete’s Foot to pick up some seemingly high-quality Nike runners.
Aside from the theatre and thrill of planning a running regime, the ramp of the landing craft slammed down on the beachhead around 6pm last night and Mike set off running into the distance.
Remembering to breathe out two strides, suck in for strides, he almost made it to the end of his block before his chest began to tighten.
“Two hundred metres, I think I got,” he said.
“Then yeah, I just knocked up real quick. Like it all came at once. It felt like the arteries in my neck were a pair of garden hoses on full blast. My mind went blank, all my thoughts and everything just went straight out the window,”
“My lungs burned and it felt like my nostrils were too small for the amount of air I needed. But the worst of all was the stitch. My God, it felt like I’d been stabbed! I’m committed to continuing on my journey from pub to five kays.”
Mike’s friends think otherwise.
One of his trivia buddies, who says he expects to see him tonight for the quiz, said that Mike is very impulsive and prone to explosive returns to cardio.
In other words, he’s seen this before.
“Last year he did the same thing,” he said.
“He’d go for a run or two then basically pack it in for some reason or another. He’d tell us why he can’t run anymore. I think it was more for him than it was for us,”
“I mean, we’ve all got our shit. I’ve got a $57 000 HECS debt but I’m not about to go out and get a second job. It plays on my mind a lot, however, I’m not telling everyone about it. Mike isn’t even that unfit, he just needs to quit smoking and drinking a Creaming Soda with every meal.”
More to come.
