Chris, it seems, is on a mission to motivate me back into my running. Apparently, it appears to the others, I've gone off the boil. I've just felt so phenomenally tired these past few weeks, and the thought of a run is draining, rather than the usual energising. They've been taunting me with promises of cake and bacon, associated with a run...things that tick my box. James, and his perpetual promises of bringing tea money for alfresco post run refreshments, Chris with his blunt football coaching style 'man-up, you pussy' words of encouragement.
Even Jason who tracked me down, enthusing the pleasures of the Anglesey Half Marathon soon with '
c'mon, it'll be fucking great' with a smile and warmth unique to him that make you believe even if it's pissing it down and blowing a gale, we'll still somehow have fun... and Pete with his 'yeah, me too!'. OK, so Pete is a lost cause in the buddy motivating game. He's too busy saving the world and recovering from illness. But last night, Chris raised the stakes. I was once at a classic car show in Knutsford, gazing deep into the liquid black paint of an E-Type Jag.
The paint was so deep, you could have dived into it, it was so inviting...but for the notice placed on the bonnet which read '
like another mans woman, you can look, but don't touch'. As the music in my head and subconscious thoughts were violently interrupted by this sign, I looked up and to the left...and there was Big Billy, shall we call him, sat in a deck chair slightly too small for his significant build, smiling at us, needing to say nothing, but with a look of self satisfaction all over his face.
Cars and men - a unique relationship. Of course, and quite possibly the result of anyone who passed that delicious icon of 60's motoring that day...we were now looking for his wife, all interest in his car long since gone! Last night, the message was simple. '
Chris says if you come running tonight, he'll let you drive his car'. I feel a bit responsible for Chris's new car. He works hard in his own business and has always promised himself a Maserati. Sensing he was serious, I urged him to look beyond the fragile Italian marque, and suggested he 'needs' a Panamera.
You know how it goes, specc'ing a car on someone else's budget. Easy. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he bought one...out of the blue. He loves it. Like a dog with two dicks, he told me, and refers to it as his Sports Limousine. That's lucky. Best keep my views to myself in future. I accepted the invitation to run, but made no mention of driving his car. I prefer his company, rather than what he brings to the party, but acknowledged his thoughtful offer. The run went up to Bowstones behind Lyme Park, but a new route this time.
It was beautiful, and largely up, but we saw many great things. Deer, an old LandRover at odds with Chris's car, that was more an integral part of the landscape than much that surrounded it, and great views over Cheshire at the top. It was a lovely run and I'm pleased I was encouraged to come out. It's usually me who's trying to convince someone to join me for run, promising great things when really only pain and misery awaits. But it was good for once to have the table turned. Cheers.
