I’d walked it last Friday, at the pleading of work-chum Alex as she hates the shuttle bus, so I agreed on the proviso she buys me a beer at the dodgy pub near the station. I managed the walk then ok, but arrived at the pub feeling much worse for wear, and welcomed the chance to sit down and nurse my aching ankles.

This afternoon, however, I managed it with no more shin pain than I would normally get doing a brisk walk in crap work shoes. The weather was nice, I had some lovingly-cheesy power metal on the iPlod, and I wasn’t feeling too knackered from a day hunched over code.

The walk took me just over 20 minutes and left me feeling not uncomfortable at all.

Earlier in the day, I dug out an email my boss received from a friend, and forwarded to me, when he’d asked said friend for advice on what would be the best running shoes for me (friend works in a running shop in Brighton, apparently). It was advice I was thankful for at the time, but ultimately ignored (natch), but took it to heart today when pondering my shit turn last week.

More importantly, he gave some sample shoe models as examples of what might be good for a largish-bloke – Brooks Beast, Saucony Hurricane (sexy sounding!), NB1222 (eh?) and Asics Kayano (ooo! exotic!) – for which I looked up images for on Google, and spent a few minutes admiring shoe porn. They all looked Very Fucking Cool.

So now I’m excited about getting a new pair of shoes, despite the last pair not even being properly broken in.