midnight motorway noises
22 February 2006
1:03:46
The ladies are on the run again...
Annually, around Glasgow, around this time of year, around half of the city's ladies start running.
I noticed it last year because Kirsty was running too, this year she's running again but I noticed it before I knew about that.
They are everywhere, in purple t-shirts and red faces. They run down Great Western Road in the mornings, through Kelvingrove Park in the early evening, along Woodlands at night. I constantly feel like I should be running too...
Not because they look like they're enjoying themselves, like they're having a ball, with red faces and "hheee hoooo" breathing. They are A) shaping up, no more pints - just a gin and slim and a packet of lightly-salted-peanuts-for-me-please-bar-keep. B) probably making a bit of cash for their chosen charity. Which can't be bad. C) Making us mere perambulating pedestrians feel a mite sheepish about that chips and cheese we collectively got last night. That twelfth fag, that double decker, that extra hour of the Will and Grace marathon...
The sense of acheivement must be awesome, because (as hard as it was for me to believe before big sis did it last year) the Jogging Ladies were once just as slow and pastey faced as you or I. Mostly I.
Maybe one year I'll do it too, maybe the sense of scorn and shame will turn to resolution and eventual accomplishment. Until then though, I will shoot a smile at those brave ladies who run past me tomorrow, hheee hoooo, hopefully they will see me, although it obviously depends how fast they are going.
Annually, around Glasgow, around this time of year, around half of the city's ladies start running.
I noticed it last year because Kirsty was running too, this year she's running again but I noticed it before I knew about that.
They are everywhere, in purple t-shirts and red faces. They run down Great Western Road in the mornings, through Kelvingrove Park in the early evening, along Woodlands at night. I constantly feel like I should be running too...
Not because they look like they're enjoying themselves, like they're having a ball, with red faces and "hheee hoooo" breathing. They are A) shaping up, no more pints - just a gin and slim and a packet of lightly-salted-peanuts-for-me-please-bar-keep. B) probably making a bit of cash for their chosen charity. Which can't be bad. C) Making us mere perambulating pedestrians feel a mite sheepish about that chips and cheese we collectively got last night. That twelfth fag, that double decker, that extra hour of the Will and Grace marathon...
The sense of acheivement must be awesome, because (as hard as it was for me to believe before big sis did it last year) the Jogging Ladies were once just as slow and pastey faced as you or I. Mostly I.
Maybe one year I'll do it too, maybe the sense of scorn and shame will turn to resolution and eventual accomplishment. Until then though, I will shoot a smile at those brave ladies who run past me tomorrow, hheee hoooo, hopefully they will see me, although it obviously depends how fast they are going.
gillyscribbles, at 11:30 pm
