Is there anything worse than seeing joggers (or “runners” as they like to call themselves) in London in January? It’s cold, dark and our thick layer of Christmas-induced blubber is refusing to drop off naturally like an iguana’s tail. Everywhere you turn there are people pounding the streets wearing Salomon trainers, lurid colours, trail running vests and CamelBaks, as if they were tackling the Himalayas rather than dodging Lime bikes on a 0.1 per cent incline. It’s more than annoying. It’s confronting.
Are these people trying to make us feel bad? The answer is yes. No matter what anyone tells you about health, discipline or personal goals, the real reason for running is always smugness.
