Confessions.

So as my dedicated followers on twitter will know, I went for a run last night in an attempt to conquer St James's park. It didn't end well. It started well: we stretched, we procrastinated, we checked the map of one of the smallest parks in the world in case we got lost and eventually after thorough security checks, we set off. It started pretty well. Unfortunately, it didn't end well. I'm currently one swollen ankle, a grazed leg and a cut hand and knee down. Oh and did I mention I'm going to a domestic abuse help centre (for work) today? Doesn't look great.

Now the title of this blog obviously suggests I have something to confess. Falling over in public and making a tit out of myself is nothing new. It's practically a daily occurrance in Horsley land. No, my confession lies in the reason I fell over.

I fell over because I wasn't paying attention. Why wasn't I paying attention?... Well because I was tweeting on my phone. What was I tweeting? Something hideously moronic along the lines of 'check me out I'm such a bloody jogger. LOLosaurus'.

Yep. Now its out there. My shame will take me to Outer Mongolia. I doubt ill ever return.