Fellow Runners

Posted on: 29 May 2018

Everyone has got something they gets them pushing out the miles every morning at some godforsaken hour.  There is a reason for every sticky, wasp encouraging, cyclist dodging, retractable lead jumping trot in the evenings.

  • The Inspirational runner - those who  raise thousands for worthy causes and never say die.
  • The Doctors referals - for never saying diet.
  • The Mid life Crisis - The Lycra calls..
  • The Boredom runners - Effortless (annoying) aging hippy who run with a Irish wolfhound, Chuck Taylors and 20 Marlboro lights as a recovery "snack".
  • The Love Afflicted - those who meet fit other halves and then talk themselves into taking part.  Totty chasing has a lot to answer for in my book and responsible for me getting off the sofa in the first place.

Many, Many runners.  Many, Many reasons.

Don't you notice the same people every other run and just wonder?

Over the past few weeks I have noticed the same posse of fellow trotters on my favourite (flattest, anyway) routes.

You're rain lashed, sand blasted and pissed off with being half scared out of your new compression socks by Lycra boy cyclists and sniggering teenage girls and there they are... Lady Pink Socks, Ladies that Lunch, Hippy Dog Man, Big Tall Hit the Wall Paul, Mr Inapropriate and yes, Pscycle Killer (que'st que c'est fa fa fa fa fa fa ) and all is almost well in the world.


White head band, wears Obsession to go running.  Occasionaly sings to herself. Steady 12 minute miler.  Pink headphones.  I think she owns a French Bulldog. Always gives you a nod.


Definitely sisters or very close buddies, matching outfits from Fabletics (Lucky so and so's, I can only dream of looking that uncomfortable but fashionable.  Too much stretch stuff for me.  £30 for a running top that give me back boobs as well as an inferiority complex - I'll stick to Sports Pursuit, thank you) usually chatting about something really interesting like what John in Accounts said or the trouble they're having with their new hairdresser.  Its not the same since Kyle left mind.." Steady 8-10 minute milers.  Usually having a coffee and a cake when I'm on my return route.  Faster than they look. Lucky so and so's..


Nice bloke.  Ocasionally says "Hi Babe".  Has spent a lot of time somewhere beachy, idyllic and windswept.  One of those annoying surfers who are actually living the dream.  Possibly finds this running lark all to easy but it counteracts his 20 a day habit. Runs in battered Vans or Chuck Taylors (No fancy, schmancy, tech for him)  with a large mongrel type hound.  It's all too easy.. could possibly be an athlete if he didn't look so relaxed or shipwrecked.


My favourite compadre.  Runs roughly the same pace as me and sports the beetroot faced, wild eyed panicky look just as well.  Well over 6ft. I feel happy seeing BTHTWP!  I feel he's a true kindred spirit.  He's probably having a mid life crisis as well, the docs are pecking his head over cholesterol or he's got a new girlfiend to impress.  Spends too much time constantly checking his Garmin to see if a mile has magically passed since he last looked 30 seconds ago much like myself.  Has bought expensive trainers just like me hoping they'll sprout wings no doubt.  A battler, stop starter but a finisher! He almost died of shame when I saw him buying a Cinamon Whirl in Tesco's.  Threw in a bottle of expensive Coconut water to ease the guilt.


Of an undefinable vintage somewhere between late 50's and early 70's and VERY tanned.  Sometimes sports ancient Ronhill leggings or short shorts like the middle distance runners of the 80's used to wear but with sagging mesh.  Yep.  You read correctly.. I'll leave you to define that image in your mind and understand why its inappropriate.  Runs too fast for my liking.  Looks like the doctors have pecked his head about cholesterol or heart disease as well but he runs the Marathon Des Sable in nothing more than sunscreen so cares not a jot.


Keeping the best for last.. Probably a Doctors Referral. Ramsay Bolton on a roadie.  Threatens not only to cut you up but throw you over the sea wall as well.  Chamois Cream Charmer no doubt.  No sense of personal space or peripheral vision.  See's you as something of a challenge or out of Sonic the Hedgehog. He likes his wrap around fake Oakley's and yes, I'd miss this nugget of sub human decency as well if he disappeared from the scene.  I know I'm almost home when his front wheel grazes my right bum cheek and I hear a sarcastic huff / half cough as he hurtles past.  The number of times I have visualised putting a cross bow arrow through his mid back as his big old lycra clad bum (he's a FKW as well BTW) speeds past.

I know Psycle Killer is not a runner but anyone who runs the Promenade in Swansea regularly encounters something akin to Mario Kart on a bad day when the sun is out.  The aim is to be able to run wild and free and look like a trail runner of sorts, not an escaped convict complete with ankle chains being chased by baying blood hounds.

Who are your running buddies / reverse stalkers?  Everyone knows a Lord Bolton of the Bike no doubt.

I honestly get concerned when I don't see them.  Have they sorted that gyppy calf out?  Has Paul succumbed to that temptress of the Danish Pastry counter?  Have the ladies who lunch fallen out?

Even Psycle Killer..

Here's to them.  The same "brothers in arms / plucky plodders. You feel secure in the knowledge that there is someone who is just as terrified and knackered as you doing the same route!

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