So I was out for lunch yesterday at the local bakery and on my way back out a petite twenty-something girl almost careered into me on her way past.
She was wearing a marathon relay shirt and seemed to be in agony. I couldn’t help but feel for her as she was wheezing like crazy and not having a great time, but still apologised for nearly crashing into me even though it was my fault.
This encounter got me thinking about the different types of runners I see when I’m out on the road. Here’s 10 of them.
- The “I’m in over my head with this running for charity bullshit” runner – This will be the girl (mentioned above) who signed up to their friends relay team in aid of their uncle Dave who lost a ball whilst kayaking blindfolded. They will hate every minute of running and will stop for no good reason on the footpath. And every time they stop they will see Dave in their mind’s eye shaking his head in disdain at them for not having the balls to pull through. They are forced into having a set of balls as Uncle Dave is no longer afforded that luxury.
- The runner with the insane arm movements who nearly clubs you on the way past with their elbows - These fuckers fail their limbs like they are dogs drowning in straitjackets. I always feel like I’m infringing on their territory when passing them. If I were to knock into them they’d start on me with “You fucked up my regime man! You fucked up! Now I’ll fuck you up!”
- The club runners - I love the club runners. They burst past me like a line of ducks on crack. The front runners will be that fast that I won’t notice them going by. I’ll only notice the next few by the gust of wind that the speedsters leave in their wake. They will be slowly followed by a group of stragglers of varying paces and waist bands. But they will all be determined to do their best. And I can’t fault their resolve. Sometimes I like to tail them for as long as possible just to feel like the spare prick in the gang bang. They can’t throw me out. I’m running on public property after all. Sometimes if I’m feeling bored or dangerous, I like to run on turf that’s covered by 2 separate running clubs and pretend that I’m in the other club whilst jogging with them.
- The under prepared but determined beginner runner - It’s minus fucking 5C outside, blowing a gale but our under prepared runner is unphased by the weather as he knows in his heart of hearts that his resolve will see him through. He’s watched Haile run on his television after all. If Haile can do it, he can too! It’s usually this hapless maniac that you will see on a “Mountain Rescue” reality TV show stranded on the Brecon fucking Beacons, having lived off nothing but a half empty bottle of orange sports drink and a Nutrigrain bar for the past 2 weeks.
- The over prepared but determined beginner runner - Fresh after his near death experience on the mountains, our now over prepared runner will carry a Camelbak, 18 gels, a compass, maps, condoms and a tent on every 2 mile run. Just in case….
- The nervous mother runner who runs with the panic alarm and the stare that says ‘If you get one step closer to me I will pepper spray you in the balls’ - She’s a danger to herself and society.
- The “I can’t stop fucking talking to myself even though I am running in public” runner - It’s embarrassing enough listening to them whisper words of encouragement like “Wow, this feels good!”, “Only 1 mile to go!”, “Wheeewww!”, “This is amazing, I’m an athlete!” to themselves, but it becomes truly cringeworthy when I’m running towards them and they notice that I’ve heard them speaking to themselves.
- The “I desperately need a shit” runner - We’ve all been this person at one point in our lives. The need a shit runner will be making drastic changes to their running form as they try to find the best way to stop the shit knocking at the door of their ass. If possible overtake this runner at all costs. You don’t want to be behind them when their run goes brown.
- The hungover runner - If you run a lot on a Sunday you will see these fuckers all the time. You will often smell them first as the last of the vodka makes it’s way out of their pores. Never get in the way of a hungover runner, the chances are they will vomit down your back or pick a fight with you if they are Irish.
- The “I can’t stop fucking about with my phone/mp3 player” whilst running, runner - Either it’s impossible for them find a good fucking song on their iPhone or they insist on annoying all of Twitter with tweets that go like “OH MY FUCKING GOD! I’M RUNNING! LAWL! RUNNING! LOL!!!! LA-LA-LA xx”. Either way, I get worried that they are gonna end up running onto the road in front of a car. And I don’t cope well with tragedies.
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