Road rage.

I’ve been what my fifteen-year-old self would have called “morphing dwarves” today. I woke up really Sleepy morphed into Grumpy which morphed into just plain angry by about midday (yeah yeah not a dwarf… whatever).

I was so angry that I was almost physically seeing red. A build up of tiny irritating things that made me a little bit angry got me to that point. All the frustration that I have been bottling up for sometime needed to come out. I was either going to shout at the next person who dared speak to me or I needed to vent some other way.

Suddenly I got the urge. Trainers on. Earphones in. Hit play.


I ran and I ran. I couldn’t run fast enough. It’s been months since I ran but today I needed to pound my feet on the streets of SW9 as hard as I could to fight against my rage.

I ran away from all those people and things that have thoroughly pissed me off over the past few weeks. Loud music thumping in my ears causing my pulse to sky rocket and allow my inner angry man to shout as much as he wanted.


I furiously ran to Clapham down the back of Brixton storm past my beloved Brixton Academy (with a salute) and sprinted back home.

All it took was a mere 25 minutes and I was done.
Exhausted and to be honest, dying.

Four hours on my legs still ache and my sides really hurt. I had taken it way too far. Red patches all over me where my body seems to have protested.

But at least I don’t feel angry any more.


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