“You’re A Crook!”

The other day I was like a kid at Christmas when I came home to see a parcel waiting for me. My shipment of runners had arrived. Packing for this run makes me feel like I’m leaving for another planet for two years, without the luxury of buying new shoes once I leave home.

The plan is to bring six pairs of runners. Three pairs will be brand new, each worn for only a couple of training runs to break in. One of those pairs is a half size bigger than my regular shoe size, anticipating that my feet will start to swell. I will also bring along some pairs whose best days are behind them, but still have some life. These used runners may need to be ‘altered’ during the course of the run if my feet get too hot and need more air movement.

Finding the appropriate clothing has been an adventure in itself. The desire is for light coloured clothing that doesn’t feel as hot in the sun. I thought I had ordered the perfect pair of white tights until I tried them on at home (let’s just say they were clearly intended to be worn underneath shorts or else I’d be giving motorists quite a show).

When it comes to running clothes, I am a creature of habit, as nearly my entire wardrobe is black. This almost cost me dearly earlier this year. It was still cold outside and I was running the bays one morning when a young child saw me and yelled, “you’re a crook!” I guess the black tights, black jacket, black gloves, black shoes and black balaclava made me look less like a runner and more like a thief. I ended up passing that house six times that morning and nearly every time heard the child yell, “you’re a crook!” On the fifth time through that bay, I heard “you’re a crook”, before noticing a large rock bouncing between my feet. Yup, that rock was thrown by the child, intended to scare off this unwanted intruder who kept stalking their house.

The ROCK