Pages

home      my running story      races from the beginning      talk to me       product reviews      

Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Getting Changed in Car Parks and NOT Going to Running Club

Managed to actually schedule things so I could make it to running club. It’s like waiting for the alignment of the stars or something trying to get everything arranged to get to club. I used to be able to get there regularly but due to the time work finishes now it isn’t possible to get there any more unless there are unusual circumstances.

I used to train on Tuesday evenings for about an hour with a group of 2 or 3 other girls who were doing their triathlon training, but it fitted in fairly well with my running training. We used to have a chat and a catch up as we were doing it and I missed that when I couldn’t go. We’d never bothered to switch telephone numbers, just used to be there at the ssame time on Tuesday evenings ready to train.

So ... yesterday it was raining. And not just a litle drizzle, but a proper deluge. The gutters were overflowing and the grass was sodden. It stopped  as I left work and although I can’t say the sun actually came out,the day brightened a little around the drizzle.

In case you don't know what mud looks like

I finished work and had a coffee in a pub while waiting for the training time and then did my usual „Let’s Get Changed Surreptitiously in a Car Park“. It’s really not as easy as it sounds. Firstly, car parks are designed so there aren’t tucked-away spaces and quiet corners otherwise there would be all sorts going on. Like people getting changed in their cars.

Secondly, trying to get yourself out of your normal bra and into a sports bra with 2 SEPARATE clasps without doing a Kate Middleton is virtually impossible.

And third, someone ALWAYS walks past the car at the critical point when you’re trying to get your arms out of your work shirt. You have to sit in the car looking innocent and armless (see what I did there) until the passerby passes by. Possibly it’s always the same person and they’re sitting in a nearby tree with binoculars waiting for that critical moment, but I don’t think my boobs would be worth the wait.

Plus I always forget to turn my sports gear the right way round so I’m sitting there with no trousers on, trying to turn my running shorts the right way round as fast as possible. I ALWAYS think „Shit! Why don’t I do this bit FIRST?“ And I ALWAYS forget.

Couldn’t get changed in the pub loos as I think they were likely designed by an anti-obesity campaigner as it’s difficult for ME to navigate the loo roll holder and get the door shut and I’m little. I don’t know how a lady with more generous proportions would manage and there’s definitely no room for getting changed. Even if you didn’t drop your socks down the loo by mistake.
I think we should be issued felt tip pens with EVERY card

Anyway, finally got to club and there was nobody there. At all. I did a mile warmup around the track, slowly. A hurdler turned up. And no-one else. I considered doing my scheduled 4 x 800m, but I was getting wet. It was cold. My knee hurt.

I’d rescheduled everything to get to club. It was drizzly and getting dark and my bottom lip was DEFINITELY starting to wobble. I phoned home and had a ‚Poor Me‘ moment down the phone. Simon knows how to handle me and he said all the right things. I was told me to come home and run there. I got home and there was a bunch of roses waiting for me. I’ll have to have a tantrum every day ...

No comments:

Post a comment