Run For Cover

September 30, 2014

I hate running.

I’m not alone in this sentiment, I know. Generally, my idea of running is limited to catching buses, pedestrian crossing lights and newly mobile toddlers.

So why I agreed to actively participate in this year’s Corporate Cup, I really don’t know. Was it the snazzy free Life. Be In It t-shirt or the misguided idea that doing 4.5kms around Adelaide’s Torrens river path would be an enjoyable way to spend an hour every fortnight?

Nightmare, right? [photo credit]

Every second Wednesday, I sit at my desk and think about going to do my lap until I eventually gather up enough motivation (usually the thought of chips) to actually go and get changed into said snazzy t-shirt and other running attire.

Including a bum bag.

Don’t judge.

I have to take my phone so I can record my time on Strava and share the evidence of my effort on FacebookI am not doing this without at least a couple of likes. 

Of course, no activewear pants come with a pocket big or zippered enough to slide an iPhone 5s in. So I found a bum bag at Savers for $1.99, suffered the mortification of buying it and I use it to carry my phone, timer card and tissues. The last time I "wore" it, I busted the adjustable strap so had to put a ghetteaux knot in it #runninglife. 

But it's SO practical! Why can't they be properly stylish or, at the very least, acceptable for people other than young rave-goers and drug-dealers?

I usually start off well, once I have beeped my card at the timer point and started Strava going on the phone and got everything back into my bum bag and zipped up securely. By the time I get going I can muster up a bit of a trot which I maintain until I collapse into a fast walk, heaving rapidly. Then, when my lung function recovers sufficiently, I run again. It’s called interval training, don’t you know.

My grievances are many, including:

  • I almost always realise after the first running interval that I need the toilet
  • My nose runs even when I don’t
  • Not carrying a water bottle is fine because they have water stations on the course but I then have to carry an empty plastic cup along until the next one
  • Swooping Murray Magpies
  • Uni students and their unashamed canoodling on the banks of the river
  • My own uncooperative body that aches and stitches and wheezes and bounces

But mostly . . .


You have the dawdlers, the shamblers, the wheezing zombies, the three-abreasters, the fall-in-steppers and the glamazons with the bouncy ponytails and “love running” slogans on their motivational Lorna Jane singlets but most reviled are the clippers.

These are those runners who are so reticent to deviate off their own path that they actually make contact or come very close as they overtake. You hear their dogged footsteps behind you and, before you know it, their ragged breath is in your ear and their high sweat stink in your nose. 

Is this target fixation on the object ahead or are they seriously so concerned about the microseconds gained from giving you a decent berth that they have to swoop past like the aforementioned Murray Magpie to avoid any time penalties? Mate, it’s the Adelaide Corporate Cup and you are wearing a free t-shirt, not a Cathy Freeman Nike running suit so calm down and swing wide. 

Anyway. Must run. 

Bum bag not pictured, I borrowed a friend's cross-body bag for this one

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