The Bet

I'm not what you might call 'clubbable'. At parties I'm the one who'll arrive with an escape plan. The one who can't hide the overwhelming sense of relief when I recognise someone I know. The one who can't remember names, stories or punchlines. The one who nods and smiles but can't really hear a thing... Continue Reading →


The Little Wonder

Unexpected things happen to runners. Especially those who run with Glasgow clubs. Why? Runners form communities which sometimes throw out surprises. And Glasgow has some great talkers. My club, West End Road Runners has this in spades. And one of our runners, Fred Beckett proved it. We learned that we both had connections with Peterhead... Continue Reading →


A different start to the running year. It should be about putting your gear on, getting out and running with your buddies right? Not so simple. Our old running club has run its course. Willing runners lost their coach. A marathon story without a happy ending. Coupled with that I have a job which I... Continue Reading →

Bigmouth Strikes Again

You shouldn't get too close to your heroes apparently. Something about the inevitability that they'll disappoint you. Nonsense! And characteristically British. Sure, getting too much insight can be dispiriting. I tried to read Morrissey's self titled autobiography this year.  My son gave it to my for my birthday. He'd thought about his present, knew how... Continue Reading →

Racing Line

Two older people and a young lad on a big stage made me think today. The first was a runner. His movement was restricted, running stiffly. In his seventies, he was warming up for the local Parkrun this morning. It's a beautiful early autumn day, no wind, dry and perfect for running. I wished him... Continue Reading →

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