7) Go jogging in a foreign country

People have commented that certain items on my list are easier than others. I am in foreign countries quite often (thanks to cheap flights) so going jogging shouldn't be too hard. The thing is, the completion of each item on the list needs to be memorable, or special in some way. I had always thought that I would complete this in New York, but when I got to Copacabana Beach, and saw the path for joggers all around the bay, I decided I had to do it there.

I took three days preparing. Each morning I would wake up, realise I still felt tired from the night before, and decide tomorrow would be better. By preparing I hope you didn't think I meant training.

The day finally came. I put on the vest, left the hostel at about 10am and walked to Copacabana Beach (didn't want to tire myself before I can actually see the sea, of course). I got to the beach, walked onto the jogging path, and starting running on the wrong (right) side (silly every country in the world other than England, Australia, and a few others).

Just like every other jog I start, after about 30 seconds I wanted to stop, though knew I couldn't. I just tried to listen to my music, watch the people going past, and think about nothing else. In the distance I could see the end of Copacabana, as it curves perfectly so you can always see the whole front.

The jog itself was fairly uneventful, so I won't dedicate much time to it. My headphones fell out a couple of times, my shoulder started to hurt, and I thought I was running a little bit like a gimp, but it was okay.

When I got to the end of the beach I sat on a sea wall watching Brazillian fishermen. It felt serene. I had my legs dangling over the water (though holding on so I didn't fall off the wall into the violent waves) and sat thinking about everything. This blog isn't really a place where I write my moans and emotions, so I will just leave it as 'I was thinking deeply about everything', while watching the whole of Copacabana go about its business.

Something snapped me out of my thoughts, as out of the corner of my eye I could see the man next to me tipping water out of his bottle, onto the rocks. This annoyed me a little bit, I didn't want to carry water, so I was quite thirsty, plus its expensive... and here he is just tipping his away. I looked across to see why he was doing it, and weirdly he wasn't. He had both hands on his fishing rod, standing there looking ahead. What confused me more is that he was still tipping water. As my head slowly tilted down I was shocked to see that this nice fisherman was standing, penis out, no handed peeing onto the rocks. I was shocked. I have seen men pee before, but no handed, in public, while fishing? This man was a master. A dirty, filthy master. I no longer wanted a drink.

I got up and started to walk to the beach. I passed a TV crew filming some acting. I think it was quite a popular program since there were a lot of crew and people watching.

The side of the beach I was on seemed mainly reserved for sports, so there wasn't many people around. I walked down to the sea and sat down. The waves were about 30cm from my feet, on a tide that doesn't visibly ever go in or out, though occasionally shocked you by going much further up than it looks. I started to think again, and somewhat meditate. I don't know what meditating is, so I can only guess what I was doing was meditating. I didn't really have my legs crossed and hands out, and I wasn't making 'mmmm' noises, but I was picturing myself on a desert island, thinking what I would do. I felt happy on my desert island, and I was picking fruit, and adding things to my house made of wood, and looking at animals in the trees.

I am too reliant on people, in that I like to try and have a lot of friends, and get sad if they don't seem bothered about me... but when I was thinking about being on the desert island I felt like I didn't really need anyone, and that I am quite happy in my own company. This was progress.

I woke up a while later. I'm not sure at which point I fell asleep, and I hope however I did it it didn't look silly to the people walking past, who I will never see again. I got up and walked back to the hostel.

When I got back I got changed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was still wearing a vest, though this vest was permanently sunburned onto my skin. When I left in the morning it didn't seem sunny enough to use any sunblock, but it must have sneaked out while I slept. Not only did I have a vest sunburn (which I think shows me dedication to Captain Vestman), I also had a bright red face, minus a prominent white curl on my forehead that must have blocked out a spiral of sun. It was embarrassing. Many people commented.

The jog felt quite memorable, mainly for the 'soul searching', peeing and sunburn... so I am quite happy to cross number 7 off my list!