MAN v FAT Confessions: Running Away With It

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The theory is that confession is supposed to unburden the soul and leave the confessor feeling lighter. At MAN v FAT we’re all about feeling lighter and so we thought we’d offer our readers the chance to confess their weight-loss and fitness sins. You can add your own completely anonymous confession on the form over here. Let us know what you’ve been up to and we’ll publish the “best” (no murders please). We’ll also try to offer some impartial advice and perhaps suggest a path to salvation.  

Take it away…

I’m not proud of this but then I suppose that’s the point of a confession.

A lovely picture of Sarah Millican


Me and my Mrs had an agreement about six months ago that we’d both do the Couch to 5K app. We both needed to shift some weight and her brother had done it and said it was really good for getting you back into fitness easily, so we signed up when we were a bit tipsy.

Anyway, we both bought trainers – when did trainers start to cost £100 by the way? –shorts, jackets and all the clobber and agreed that we’d commit to it.

There’s an athletics track at the end of our road and we said that we’d get up and start going running three times a week. Not going to lie, I wasn’t looking forward to it as I think I’ve got quite a lot more to lose than her and I felt a right idiot in all the luminous gear, sneaking out at 6 in the morning.

The very first run we had a massive barney. On the app you have to choose who you want to guide you through it. She wanted Jo Whiley and I wanted Sarah Millican. She won obviously and we had to listen to Jo Whiley.

I made a bit of a fuss and she dug her heels in and it became this thing that it was Jo Whiley or nothing. In the end I said the simplest thing was if she had Jo Whiley and I’d do it with Sarah Millican in the middle of the day. Which she agreed to.

So, three times a week I take my kit to work and get out at lunchtime and play the next run in the programme. Only…I’ve not been running. In actual fact I’ve been driving. But to be fair I have been driving faster during the bits when I’m supposed to run.

It’s been quite nice because the people in the office found out about it and they all think I’m going out to a gym to do it and they’ve all been dead encouraging. My boss even mentioned it in my review.

My lady knows what I’m like and so every run day she checks the app to see if I’ve done the run. She’s always impressed when it says that I’ve moved onto the next one. She’s not great with tech to be fair and I don’t think she’s connected the idea that you could play the run and, well, not run. That’s probably because you’d have to be a right weirdo to play all the runs and then not run.

She’s lost a decent amount of weight doing the programme and is starting to make noises about doing the last few runs together. I checked the app and you’re supposed to run for 30 minutes. As it is, I’m not sure I can drive for 30 minutes.

Divine intervention is needed.

MVF: Oh friend. Tangled are the webs that we weave, when first we practiced to deceive. You’ve properly backed yourself into a corner here, haven’t you. The jeopardy is that it’s not just your wife you’re stringing along, it’s work and bosses too. Fortunately, the solution is at hand.

First things first, you need to get your trainers on and start actually doing the programme rather than driving around at lunchtimes. It’s really easy to do and you can consider this penance for all the lies you’ve told. While that’s going on, you’ll need a delay. Our suggestion is that you take your wife up on the offer of doing the final few runs with her. Do the first five minutes and do everything you can to make it appear that you’re finding it easy. Then, just as your fitness is about to give out, BANG! That’s when your hamstring goes. You’ve seen it happen to the footballers often enough. Grab the back of your thigh and wince a lot, easy. 

The average recovery time for a hamstring? Eight weeks. Just enough time to get you up to speed with Couch to 5k, for real this time…



Image by Matt Crocker.




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