Hell and Damnation

Bless me Father...I must have sinned.....that is the only explanation I have for the punishment rained down on me last night at the hands of Rapid Ronan. Mother of God ! I arrived down to the Fair Green delighted that the aches and strains from earlier in the week had disappeared, and I was ready for running. Rapid warmed us up gently...good start...must be listening to us?
"Right ladies, tonight is a 10, 8, 4, 2 minute session" . Now, at this stage no one trusts Rapid Ronan and one of the Marathon Mary's walked up to him and asked how many minutes would be in between those runs...." "2 minutes" he said, "about 90 seconds"...now I don't know what school of Maths Rapid went to , but in my education days 2 minutes was in fact 120 seconds. I decided not to take this up with him so early in the evening...in case he would take it out on me ! I called him a few names under my breath and off we went. The first 10 mins were hard but the first run always is, so I was hopeful the 8 minute would be handy....WRONG ! It was HELL ! I hurt...everywhere. I was not going to be beaten though, so finished the hellish 8 minutes, struggled through the 4 minutes and prepared myself for the final 2 minutes.
At this stage the Golfing Rumpsteak pulled up alongside me, his royal blue top beautifully bringing out his complexion. Now, I was not really listening as I was struggling to actually breath but he seemed to be suggesting I fraternise with Macho Malone.... some kind of strange threesome I thought ? Strange man that Grrr! I finished the "final" 2 minutes and uttered an expletive with relief. The lovely Feline Foggy jogged past quietly and with by far the best legs in the Fair Green . I was happily slowing my breathing , on what I thought was the warm down walk, and then Rapid pulled out his whistle, blew it and announced "1 more minute folks...go for it !" Go for it...I wanted to go for him, but was not prepared to be defeated so off I went, pushing as hard as I could, calling him all the names under the sun, in my head, until my left buttock gave up the ghost causing me to slow down until the "final " whistle blew.....Dusky Digger asked 3 of us " how was that girls? " only to hear 3 grown women go "Aaargh". Then it happened...Rapid Ronan pulled out his bloody big whistle AGAIN ! " 30 seconds...push it !" he yelled. Words I would never use came to mind...beginning with B, F, W and others. My legs were throbbing, my hips aching, my buttocks quivering and my lip wobbling. At that moment I hated the man, and yet a small part of me loved that fact that he had not beaten me, that I had managed to complete it. I added up 10+8+4+2+1+0.5 and realised I had run for 25.5 minutes...WOW ! The Marathon Mary's gathered tired and emotional around Rapid...who did not realise the danger he was in....and he praised us ...it felt lovely .... mind you he advised us that he had timed us and we had completed 37 minutes , 29 of which was running ???? His Maths is shite...either that or he conned us !!!???