 |
| Beckenham Golf Course on a humid September morning |
Day 161
8 mile run and chat
Runners' World magazine once ran a piece on how marathon training takes up as much time, effort, planning and energy as having an extra marital affair. It's an equally sweaty workout too. This struck a chord with me, since my husband has professed exasperation, envy, even hurt, over the devotion I show to the sport, my club, Parkrun etc.
One of the many friends I've made through running tends to text me to ask me out for a run, because she just 'needs to get out'. She has a demanding job, and family, and a husband who rather despises her love of running. He, like my man, becomes antsy when she goes out running with male members of the running club (she is rather gorgeous). His relief at learning that Ronnie was a female of advanced years, and not a fit man, was palpable, she says. She of course did not mention the advanced years.
We take it in turns to chat on, and when one of us feels puffed, we listen to the other. A sympathetic ear while the eyes are fixed firmly on the road ahead. Somehow the exertion precludes embarrassment. Maybe it's because she's a psychiatrist, but I've been a little indiscreet while talking to her, moaning about domestic strife, dizzy daughters, harrumphing husbands...but when we came to a rest this morning, sweating and giggling after a sprint down my road, we both felt lighter.
No comments:
Post a Comment