The time I took up running

A ha! The time I took up running. Me. Running.

I was young and foolish, can I blame it on that? I was 19 years old and living in halls at Glasgow University. One of my flatmates was a girl called Jess. She was my favourite flatmate because she was cool and sporty.

I think I must have talked about wanting to take up running in the way that I once raved on about wanting to do a bungee jump. The idea of being a calm and composed Baywatch-esque runner appealed to me because it was so the opposite to me.

On my birthday, Jess said that, for my present, she was going to teach me how to run. And she did.

We went running two or three times a week, usually in the morning before lectures, and we ran around the park behind our halls of residence, her looking effortless and natural, me panting and puffing along and hoping I didn’t have a heart attack.

A few times she couldn’t come so I went alone and tried to convince myself that soon I’d stop thinking about how much my little body was trying to rebel and be able to just enjoy it. I don’t think I ever did get to that stage. I just plodded along, in my ungainly little way. At the end, when I was within sight of my front door, I’d try to sprint but there was nothing left. I was exhausted. If I did manage any increase in speed, it was so desperate and uncoordinated that I resembled a charging baby elephant and prayed that no-one was watching.

My body was eternally grateful when I stopped chasing this silly pipe dream and went back to walking and sitting down.

A few times since (on crazy days) I’ve thought about going for a run. But more often than not, I see people out running and I just think, “What on earth are you doing? You could be reading a good book and drinking some tea.”

Also, I’ve heard that running makes your face saggy because of the continuous up and down motion, which makes the skin on your face all loose. Looks like I had a lucky escape really.

The walking test

Happy Thursday all. It’s time for my guest blogger to take over again, so here goes. Enjoy!

 

Is it just me or does this happen to you? You’re walking along behind someone when they suddenly, without warning, just stop. Then you notice they’re either on the phone or doing something with their phone or they’ve stopped to tell their child off for something. You do a kind of side-step to avoid walking into them while they seem completely oblivious to the problem they’ve created. Last week I mentioned the incident, in my local supermarket, of someone talking on a mobile phone and leaving their trolley blocking the aisle. (This week, by the way, went without a hitch – result!)

I’ve been thinking of how this problem could be solved. My solution is quite revolutionary (in Rambler-opolis, anyway) – pedestrian lights. That is pedestrian brake lights (& side lights for when walking at night). Now, before you laugh, just bear with me while I explain. They would be positioned on your shoulders with the red lens facing to the back. They could be powered by a small watch size battery. Every pedestrian would have to have them so that people walking behind would know when the person was going to stop (as the red brake light would go on) and can then take avoiding action. Now I’m not sure at this stage whether indicator lights could be added. Wouldn’t it be great if you could tell which way a person was going to turn especially if you were going to do an overtaking manoeuvre just by the lights on their shoulders?

Think about this – we don’t allow people to fly planes, drive trains, captain ships, ride motorbikes or scooters, drive trucks or any vehicle without passing a test. However when it comes to the pavement (sidewalk) we seem to just let anyone do whatever they want. Just as you have to pass a test to drive a vehicle on the road I think there should be a “Walking Test” before you’re allowed out on the pavements. (Kids would be exempt until they reach a certain age.) Until such time as you pass the test you wear an “L” badge (front and back). Once you’ve passed you get a pedestrian licence or walking permit. There’d be an equivalent to the Highway Code for pedestrians – a Pavement Code, maybe? There would also be a Pedestrian Police Force who could catch people breaking the rules; they should definitely catch people talking on their mobile phone whilst walking – this is a big “No-No”. (They could also breathalyse people if they suspect they are “walking under the influence of alcohol”.) In Rambleropolis if you want to answer the phone you must walk to the side of the pavement away from the road where there will be a white line marking an area for stationary pedestrians. It will be roughly the width of one person. (The area could be also used by those wanting to tie up a shoelace that has come undone or adjust their tie or dress in general.) If you are using your phone you should remain still, in this marked area, for the duration of the call. You must stop walking. Once the call, or whatever you’re doing, is over you should check behind to make sure no-one is coming and then cross the line and resume walking in the main area. How easy is that?

This would definitely introduce a bit more order to the chaos of people just walking wherever they want. Then we could look at some more measures like pedestrian speed cameras. This would bring even more order to our pavements. Running would not be allowed as it’s dangerous to those moving more slowly and older folks. Speed cameras would pick up those who disobey, say those exceeding 6mph. Further on as systems develop I think maybe we could develop the idea of a white line down the centre of the pavement. That certainly would be worth looking into. Failing a driving test is something you talk about with your friends & relatives but imagine the shame of failing your pedestrian test. Yes, I think this would really spur people on to be good citizens.

(As a quick aside here, I think there should also be a test for people using trolleys in supermarkets that would include how to position the trolley whilst thinking about what to buy or whilst talking on a mobile phone!)

I can see quite a few nodding heads. I know what you’re thinking – why has no-one ever thought of something like this before? Well to be honest I was wondering that too. I can’t see too many problems with my idea so far so I think it’s off down to the patent office tomorrow to protect my idea from anyone trying to steal it and make a fortune. Remember, in a few years time, when everyone is wearing my invention, you read it first here! I would of course expect to earn sizeable sums of money from the royalties of my idea and will probably buy a decent car with a chauffeur so don’t expect to meet me on the pavement! Oh and finally would like to just wish you all “Happy Walking”.

My bucket list

Due another work emergency, I am writing in a rush again. So I thought I’d share something that’s been on my mind for a while. Since I finished my law degree actually. It’s stuff I’d like to do in the near future. I figure if I write it down, then I’ve said it out loud so there’s some obligation to at least try and do it. Ok, here goes….

1. Join a book club.
2. Master front crawl.
3. Go back to Namibia (or at least make solid plans about it).
4. Go on (or plan) an epic walking adventure.
5. Try running (haha!)
6. Go to Secret Cinema at least once.
7. Sign up for a college course (not sure what in, I just think would be fun. Maybe food).
8. Go to that restaurant in London where everything’s completely in the dark.

So there it is. Realistically, 2 and 5 are the most achievable as they just require me making the effort to do it. Let’s see how the rest go.

I’ve said them now. There’s no backing out…..

I dare you to make your own and put it in the comments section. There’ll be no backing out then. Go on! Do it.

The bus journey of memories

I get on, beep my Oyster card and sit down. I have a magazine with me, intending to read it, but I know deep down I won’t actually read it. Because this bus journey is one which runs through the memories I have made since coming to London. I’m always drawn to look out of the window.

It starts by the pharmacy where I would come and get Bio Oil every week or so after my operation last year. To try and make my huge hideous scar fade a little. Next I’m at the garage I used to walk to when I was allowed off bedrest, to try and get my energy back. There’s the bike shop where I wheeled my bike in despair one day when I had a puncture while cycling to work. It was a brand new bike and I felt very protective of it. I hung around nervously while they took it in the back to fix, trying to catch a glimpse of it. And there’s the shoe shop where I worked for six weeks before leaving because the manager was awful. And opposite is the Waitrose I don’t like because it’s laid out differently to the one I usually go to. There’s the pub I once went on a date to. One of those dates where you realise that someone is much more likeable from a distance. Moving on to the getting-to-know-you stage had been a mistake. The Oliver Bonas shop is next. I’ve never been in there. I had a friend who worked at one of their other shops. On the left is the running shop which used to be a running and cycling shop. I lost faith in them when they got rid of the cycling part of the shop. I was quite a regular visitor, used to get kitted out in my lycra there. Then here’s the garden centre on my right. I used to cycle down here for compost and seeds etc, when I started keeping an allotment in my final year at uni. Next is the Memories of Mortlake shop. I always look at it from my bike or from a bus window and think it looks lovely but have never been in. Next, we are at the traffic lights and the bus stop on the other side of the road is where I used to wait when I worked at a coffee shop where the shifts started at 5.30am. Once, while waiting for the bus there, an old man started mumbling and shuffling over to me and when I listened to his mumbles, he was asking me what colour my knickers were! I promptly set off walking fast for the next bus stop. Next we come onto a road which is flooded with early London memories. We’re passing my old university on my right and the council estate where I lived for two and a half years having loads of fun but with the worst landlord in the history of the world.

The university buildings cover the whole right side of the road until it ends at the road I used to cycle down when going into the park. I went through a phase of cycling around Richmond Park twice every morning first thing, before I did anything else. Next is the little cobbled road on my left where my uni friends and I would get a takeaway from Dong Phuong’s at least once a week, minimum. Next, up the road to the motorway and on my right is the other council estate where my friend, Sophie, and I viewed a flat before ending up at the one we passed earlier. We pass by Putney Heath and another council estate where Sophie and I viewed a flat with a girl we didn’t know, who never got back to us about whether she wanted to move in. It was a bit of a walk from uni anyway, so we opted for the one just over the road! Turn left and follow the motorway through Wimbledon Common, which I used to cycle across when the coffee company I worked for, needed me to cover shifts at the Wimbledon branch. I once got very very lost on the common for over an hour. I was quite frantic by the time I found a dog walker and asked him for directions. We’re now in Wimbledon Village and the bar where my friend, Robyn, brought me years ago, when I first came to her house and we had gone out dancing. We danced to Kylie’s Can’t Get You Out Of My Head. I had learned the dance moves from the video and we did them, over and over. Down the hill and approaching Wimbledon station, where we dropped Joe off to get the train, before going to the bar I just passed. We turn before the station and it starts to get into unchartered territory. We pass through Southfields, where I thought for years that my friend Jay lived. She would always leave early in the evening to get home on time and I wondered why she was being so over-cautious. After all, she just needed to jump on the one bus…. I think it was Sophie who pointed out that she did not live down the road in Southfields. She lived significantly further away in Southall…. Oops! Well it’s all south, that’s what I say. We go through lots of areas which are unfamiliar until we hit Tooting, and the cafe on my left where I once met Joe so we could go and explore Tooting, to report back to a friend who was soon to move to a campus there from abroad. And the restaurant shortly after where I met an old uni friend for dinner a few months after my operation, still feeling a bit fragile. This is where I get off, to do a bit of exploring and to make some more memories.

My feelings about the Olympics

The months prior to the Olympics

O, the Olympics are coming. That’s nice. I’m not that interested in them though.

 

The week before the Olympics

The Olympics are soon. I guess I’ll see the torch as it’s going to be near my house. That might be interesting.

 

The day the torch passed

I’m here nice and early. This will be nice, seeing the torch. Not that ‘excited’, as such. It will be nice though. Waiting. Waiting. I wish that tall man in front of me would crouch down or something. Is this it?! No, it’s the convoy…. This?! No, more motorbikes and buses. Lots of people dressed in blue dancing about as though they’re at an exercise class. Wait a minute! The torch is coming! THE TORCH IS COMING! I WANT TO SEE! ME! ME! THERE IT IS! I CAN SEE IT! THIS IS SOOOO EXCITING! I’M SO EXCITED! O, there it goes. That was brief. Feel a bit emotional.

 

The day of the women’s cycling

Oo, I’ve got a day off. This will be nice. I’ll go and watch the women’s cycling. Ok, go and hang out with a sporty friend and some of his other sporty friends. Watching the race on TV. It’s quite gripping actually. Come on, ladies! Come on! Cycle faster! Ok, they’re getting close to us. Let’s go and watch them pass by then run back and watch them finish on TV. Off we go. O, there are more people than I thought there’d be. And there’s thunder and loads of rain. Right, found a good spot. Phone camera at the ready. The phone’s getting wet, o no! Stick it under these people’s umbrella. They look mildly annoyed that I have my phone under their umbrella. O well. There’s nothing I can do about it. I need to get a photo. Waiting. Waiting. Their umbrella is directing a stream of rain right down onto my head, over my eyes, down my t-shirt and onto my left shoes. I’m slowly getting drenched. But there are more important things to focus on here. Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY? O! Here they are! No, wait. It’s a policeman on a motorbike. Wait a minute. I can hear screams up ahead. They must be coming. Phone ready! A streak of colour! There they are. Click!

Little pause. Then some more coming. Click!

Ok, off we go back to the house to catch them finishing the race. We need to run if we’re going to make it. Wait a minute, Laura does not run. I DO NOW!! GO! GO! GO! My legs are hurting a bit. I’m a bit breathless. IT DOESN’T MATTER! KEEP RUNNING! RUN! RUN! RUN! OW! LEGS! OW! LUNGS! RUUUUUN! Made it. Can’t breathe. TV on! Woooooo! We got silver! WOOP! WOOP! I LOVE THE OLYMPICS.

The past week

Oo, there’s more Olympics on the TV. This is amazing. I love watching the Olympics. It’s so exciting. I’ve never watched discus so closely and been so enthralled by it. I can’t wait to go and watch the triathlon on Wednesday. Wait a minute…. It’s Tuesday… So why is BBC News telling me that the triathlon has been won by a British guy? I’m going to see it tomorrow! Aren’t I? Omygoodness. It’s not tomorrow, it’s today. And I had a day off. And I could have seen it. And I missed it. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more gutted in my entire life. I want to see the Olympics. I WANT TO SEE THEM! NOW! ME! I’VE GOT TO GET TICKETS! Ok, online, check ticket availability. Tickets for diving. In shopping basket. Click ‘request tickets.’ No tickets left! NO! NO! NO! I WANT THEM! I WANT TO SEE OLYMPICS! I WANT TO SEE THE OLYMPICS MORE THAN I WANTED A MONKEY WHEN I WAS 11 AND ASKED FOR ONE FOR MY BIRTHDAY. And I wanted that pretty badly. THIS IS MORE! I WANT TICKETS TO THE OLYMPICS. I NEEEEED TICKETS. How about the Paralympics? Those would be good too. In fact, they’d be amazing. Think how much more impressive it would be. Tickets to wheelchair basketball. Request….. NO TICKETS! Damn. Ok. Try requesting tickets for the tennis…. Nothing. Cycling?…. No. I’LL CRY IF THIS KEEPS GOING! I’LL CRY! I WANT TICKETS! I WANT THEM! Try swimming…. Wait four minutes, it’s telling me. I don’t want to. I want them now! Wait…. wait….. YESSSSSSS! GOT A TICKET! YESSSS! Paralympic men’s swimming, here I come! Woooop! Woo! I can’t wait. This is so exciting. It’s so historical and right here in London. I’d be mad not to get involved. I can’t wait. This is the most excited I’ve ever been. EVER.

EVER.