A Poem That Encapsulates My Inner Monologue When I Go Running

I must have gone insane
I’m jogging again
It seems a bit perverse

There’s a voice inside my brain
Telling me to train
My conscience is a curse

My goals I won’t attain
I’m still in the slow lane
I think I’m in reverse

Running in the rain
Doesn’t help much with the pain
In fact it makes it worse

I don’t wish to complain
But I’m feeling the strain
I need a doctor or a nurse

I think that in the main
I probably should abstain
Before I need a hearse

Instead I’ll eat chow mein
And drink lots of champagne
And in a boxset I’ll immerse