How to be a dick about exercising under lockdown

GOVERNMENT guidelines allow Britons under lockdown to leave the house to exercise. How can you pack every minute with high-fibre wankerishness?

The jogger

Whereas most of us knock-kneed mortals are meekly observant of distancing, stepping aside or even crossing the road out of consideration for fellow pedestrians, none of this for the jogger. Visored, ears clamped with headphones pumping out motivational rhythms, they deviate for no weakling, leaving an aerial trail of sweat and mucus as they thunder past.

The cyclist

You see them, but not until it’s too late; a tiny ‘ting’ of their bell to alert you that they are 0.15 seconds away, hurtling round the corner of the tow path, leaving you with little choice but to dive into a hedge or into the canal. But his strong thighs exempt him from the usual rules of courtesy.

The skateboarder

32 going on 12, the skateboarder weaves and slaloms along the park pathway, cutting through those two-metre gaps like invisible ribbons. You think they’re gone, but no, up and down the same 20-metre strip they proceed, each time upending their board with a tedious clatter.

The electric scooter kid

What the f**k is this f**ker about? It’s not even exercise. But they’re dressed in full-body lycra gear, elbow and kneepads and helmet, like they’re about to attempt a skydive from the edge of the earth’s atmosphere.

The sunbather

“I’m just stretching my back, officer. It’s yogic.” Yeah, right. For four hours? You’re nicked.

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Five other things to call these times now you're sick of 'strange' and 'unprecedented'

TIRED of calling these ‘unprecedented times’, especially now you’ve heard of the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic? Try these adjectives:

These irksome times

While we’re all familiar with how unusual things are, there’s been less mention of what a massive pain in the arse it is. Nobody can go to the beach unless they live there, it takes two hours to ‘nip’ to Asda and there are no pubs. It’s bloody irksome is what it is.

These monotonous times

Unless you’re a key worker, obviously, but for the rest of us there’s nothing going on but the same four walls day in, day out, with the bloody kids climbing them and only an hour tramping around crap local parks allowed each day.

These fattening times

“Why is everyone so fat in these old photos, Daddy?” “Well son, it was the time of the virus and there was nothing to do all day but eat crisps and start drinking Guinness at 5pm. I put on three stone. Your uncle Simon didn’t make it. The coroner’s verdict was ‘death by pies’.”

These f**ked-up times

Might as well be honest: shit is f**ked-up right now. Perhaps historians will recognise that only profanity can truly sum up our current moment, and refer to 2016-2026 as The Clusterf**k Decade.

These ordinary times

Perfect if you’re going the denial route, or for realists who’ve recognised that this is how it’s going to be from now on and our old lives won’t be coming back.

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