As the excrement mounts up, it’s not stretching things to say that we’re all looking for one way or another to escape. Some bury themselves in work, whether it’s career related or otherwise (I definitely haven’t been cranking out blogs whenever I feel the unbearable pressure of current affairs weighing me down. I’m far more likely to escape into the captivating world of television after all). There are those who absorb themselves in cultivating various relationships. And then there are folk who feel compelled to go for something altogether more dramatic.
Now I’m all for getting back to nature (well, not all that much but for the first time pretty much ever I’m living somewhere with a garden to tend so I probably ought to tinge my thumbs with a slightly grassier hue) but this might be going a very little bit too far. Yes, some people are obsessed with wolves and bedeck their homes, and even wardrobes, with images of the majestic lupine beast. As much as they might proclaim otherwise, they don’t actually ever want to run with the actual pack. Even if it forms the major part of most of their fantasies.
But society is an interesting thing and the way it’s going people may well feel that much more compelled to run away from it entirely. Let’s get these types set up as best as possible so that they don’t wind up as a delicious wolfy dinner.
For one, you need to be really rather fit indeed. Running with the pack mandates a very high level of physical prowess. Stretch out those calves, get nice and loose and, most importantly, down on all fours. I know that sounds wrong but if you insist on loping upright you’ll stick out like a sore thumb. You may well also need to work on that glorious howl I know you’re capable of. In order to get in with that pack prior to the marathon run you’ll need to convince them that you’re one of them.
Run with the pack – Bad Company