Jogging - I don't like this

As the title suggests, I'm not a big fan of this. The idea came to me literally as one line. I just imagined this insecure young woman, playfully telling this older man, who was trying to chat her up, to keep up. So I wrote this. Let me know what you think.

“Mind if I join you?” John sidled up to the new girl of the class with his usual overflowing charisma.

“If you want, it’s a free world.” The truth was, behind this ice cool expression, Henrietta was frozen for words inside. She wasn’t used to being hit on, especially not while drenched in sweat at her jogging group. Her retort was said more out of instinct than anything.

“Lovely day huh?” in truth, John wasn’t used to receiving anything less than come on signs from women. His luck with the girls on the jogging group was seen as legendary by his friends. But he saw Henrietta as a challenge, and was intrigued by the new girl.

“Yes, yes it is.” That was an understatement, it was a gorgeous day. Summer was arriving, the leaves in the trees were slowly turning green, and the mid afternoon sun was making even the grey tarmac look bright and colourful. But once again, all she could come out with was a boring reply, and if she hadn’t been running she would have been busy kicking herself.

“... Although it’s probably not the best day for jogging”. Correct, over thirty degrees centigrade will never be classed as ideal for a sport that entails running around in a circle. John hoped his humour might be the kick start to conversation.

“No you’re probably right, so, umm, what do you do for a living...?” What man wants to talk about jogging for hours? She thought a switch in the topic might invigorate the conversation. Her hesitation came from not knowing John’s name, joggers tend not to wear name badges unfortunately, although that didn’t stop her quickly surveying his chest for one.

“I’m John, 43, divorced, two beautiful kids. I own the small green bookshop next to that huge WH Smiths.” His sentence tailed off as he stopped himself from explaining his whole life story.

“Oh yes, the one that does those amazing café lattes and has quick sand like sofas, that you disappear into if you stay there too long”. Henrietta actually loved that book shop. She was a struggling writer and sought refuge and inspiration from the old, oaky, book-laden shelves in the shop.

“That is the one, we’ve lost several people to those sofas actually. What about you, who are you?” which seemed like a tad bit forward, but he thought he may as well throw caution to the wind as the nameless woman was starting to open up.

“Well my name is Henrietta, I’m 30, not divorced, or married even. So no beautiful kids, although that’s fine when people do have kids out of wedlock. I’m a journalist. But I don’t enjoy it, all my editor wants are salacious tabloid stories, but I want to write about the world. I want to tell beautiful stories that warm the...” at which point Henrietta was interrupted by the branch that collided into her forehead. The thing with jogging is, it’s a lot faster than walking, you need to focus on what is in front of you or you will collide with a variety of objects. Henrietta not only hit the tree, but she hit the tarmac on her way down.

“Are you okay?” the steady flow of blood trickling from her nose, and the bruised tree imprint on her forehead indicated that she probably wasn’t.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m totally fine.” Henrietta was in shock, and could barely handle the pain. But now is not the time to cry. First day of jogging and she hits a tree, while being chatted up, this is an eventful day so far. She was still rooted to the floor, and was visualising her head spinning in circles.

“You don’t look it, here let me help you up.” He offered his hand, and gently eased her to her feet.

“Listen, I actually have to go and open up the shop. We have a few readings happening this afternoon, but would you fancy dinner sometime? I know this fantastic Japanese place. You know it’s not all about sushi, we could have teriyaki or tempura...” being forward was John’s game. He had nothing to lose.

“Dinner? You’re going to have to chase a bit more before dinner, even if I do love your shop.” She kicked herself for using the word ‘chase’ at a joggers group. The bump to the head had given her more confidence than she usually had.

“Okay then, well I’ll see you next week.” She hoped.

Does this have legs? Give me some thoughts?