Our local 5 mile running race took place this morning, starting from Higginson Park, doing a tour of the town, and returning whence it came. For the first time in a while I took no part. Surprisingly I didn’t feel bad about that.
In previous years when I’ve not taken part, I’ve stood in the park at the start thinking “I could have done this” - but the thought didn’t even enter my head this time. There is probably a reason though; the fact that I didn’t even make it as far as the park for the gun to go off says a lot. Twenty minutes before, I had been bellowing at two little girls who had spent 45 minutes buggering around in their bedroom when they should have been getting dressed.Reality dawned on them when their Mum left the house without them; and instead of speeding up, they both sat on the floor and started crying.
I eventually dragged them out of the house, half dressed, and we finished pulling coats, raincoats, and shoes on as we struggled down the street together. Not a word was said as they both half-ran the half a mile into town.
We arrived in the high street just in time for me to hoist them onto a bench to watch the stream of competitors come past - all two thousand of them. The girls started giggling - they had never seen so many people before.
Special mention probably goes to the girl at the front of the field in the photo - apparently the announcer on the PA addressed the field shortly before the start and warned all the self important weekend warriors that the little girl stood next to them was going toembarrassthem all, so best not try to look too impressive before the start (she’s one of the “Yelling” sisters, both international standard athletes, and she lives and works in the town).
She didn’t quite win, but seeing her coming into the finish, waving, shouting to friends, and having fun made me suspect she didn’t really try to win either.