I nearly didn't go on my run tonight. It was late by the time I got home and I'd managed to convince myself that it was a bad idea. But then I put my foot down, gave myself a stiff talking to, threw on my running kit and managed to enjoy the sunset as I whizzed around the bay.
On my run tonight, I passed a pair of runners; one male and one female. They were in their 40s, probably husband and wife and dressed in matching running kit - mauve polo shirts and grey sweat pants. They reminded me of the American husband and wife tourists you used to see in Bath in the mid 90s in their matching shell suits.
Seeing them made me think of a woman I often see jogging who lives near me. Her run lasts no more than 15 minutes and yet she always carries her runners' flask of water. It's part of the look, I guess. Her matching Nike running kit is always bang up to the minute and her trainers are immaculate. On hot days, rather than leave the running jacket at home, she'll tie it around her waist. And come rain or come shine, she always carries the runners' flask. Let's face it, she's never gonna dehydrate in that time.
That's why God gave us membranes.
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