End of Term run 22 June 2009

Start here, end there. Hum. Organise transport. The Captain will sort that out. Just concentrate on having some muscles and sinews still intact after yesterday (if you don't know, read the blog that follows this one). How nice to just turn up and have women tell you what to do. Should have thought of this earlier in life.

So to Loch Turret dam car park and the twelve disciples set out for a look at the countryside between Turret and Comrie and - for some - lunch at the Comrie Golf Club. Lovely sunny morning with a pleasant cooling breeze - and photo ops galore for sunny, smiling faces burnished by the wonderful Scottish sun.


So off we go then, complete with three dogs all intent on running at least three times as far as their owners. So far, so normal.


For anyone who can count, the missing individual is our stalwart Captain who was lingering and missed this photo shoot. She didn't miss too many others.


Soon though there came a moment for a break from battering the body and considering things of more import. Like "Where DID you get those grrrrreat shoes?" "Is that a designer knee bandage? - It's really funky." Ali thinks there's a really interesting stone on the road. Liz reminds herself to fix that hair appointment. George threatens to pull that gun and shoot (himself) if the conversation doesn't soon move onto something more interesting - like the upcoming Turntable Ladder of the Year Awards.



So to a proper group photo which allows George to practice proposing to someone or other and Liz to explain why she's been complaining about her sports bra. Kona asks for a low-level shot to disguise her white legs though several other members quietly hide the evidence of their lack of sunshine exposure. The dogs just think we're all barking mad. The photographer proves his magnificent competence by completely failing to operate the shutter delay facility and thereby being absent from this stunning group portrait.

But then - OMG!! - the leaders have gone the
wrong way!! Confusion!! Calamity!!
Oh but perhaps not - they're just taking a short cut 'cause they're not coming to lunch (having other better things to do). Relief!! The split in The Cabinet is not (after all) going to lead to the fall of The Government but merely a temporary separation of policy alignment. And there's no suggestion of anyone fiddling their expenses by claiming extra mileage on Route A as opposed to Route B. Whew!! All is well and the two happy groups toddle off their separate ways towards Nirvana. There will be no election of a new Leader - rest easy Kaz.





And so Fiona, taking the whole event in her stride, marches purposefully onwards whilst George offers his heartfelt congratulations to her on the pace-setting and its effect on his legs. Seonaid averts her eyes from the scene whilst Kona settles for gritting her teeth and smiling happily through everything.

Did this all end happily or were there tears at bedtime? Read on.....






Despite George's protestations that he really is in charge, Lara finally tires of his Human getting lost and decides the only answer is to lead him along the correct path. George is reassured that Lara has completed her selfless task of cleaning up the countryside of the unwanted bodies of dead rabbits.

Fiona agrees to be Sweeper for the Club - she counted them out, now she'll count them in.



Despite energetic attempts to throw off a grinning moron who's been following the women and making a nuisance of himself taking naughty pictures of them, Fiona finally nails him in this picture now being circulated to Police forces around Scotland. Claims by the moron to have been in East Kilbride at the time of the EK half marathon the day before have been irrefutably denied as being wholly implausible. A woman seen accompanying him from time to time has been traced and denies any responsibility for him.


But alls well that ends happily and, with no sign of the moron around to spoil the party, it's 'grinning happily' time as the party parties Italian style with Al Fresco and shares happy memories of endorphins given and received. The collie also expresses its view candidly.

So here's to next time and more unforgettable memories of women running together for fun, frolics and friendship (oh, yes, and of those strange blokes who keep hanging about).

East Kilbride Half Marathon - 21 June 2009

Once upon a time in a far off land, people suffered. So it came to pass that a fair princess took pity on their suffering and did resolve to suffer for them and gather alms for her suffering from rich folk. Her eye alighted on the beautiful emerald city of East Kilbride (look - this IS a fairy story) and she resolved to suffer there in public. So resolving, she set forth to suffer for a distance in excess of four leagues (but five was a league too far - a bit like the English Blue Square Premier Football League).

So it came to pass that she ran the 2004 East Kilbride Half Marathon (see attached evidence) and raised a bagful of money for the suffering folk in the Ukraine. Accompanied by her parents who suffered as well. Actually she's not a princess - I lied. She's our daughter Kirsten.

This being an excellent idea, said parents remarked that this should be an annual event. But plague, floods, fire, pestilence and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse visited for the next four years (sort of) so all the suffering in this time took place elsewhere than in the beautiful emerald city.

Came 2009. Came membership of Strathearn Harriers (they'll even let rubbish like us in, so welcoming are they). Came new resolution to suffer more. The princess had by now started a new life in the weird world of the Unis where anyone over the age of 30 is instantly despatched into the Next World (that is called IKEA). Thus it was resolved to suffer once more amongst the hordes and pretend that suffering for more than four leagues was but a bagatelle.

Kindly folk took pity and thrust further alms on the poor demented for the further benefit of sufferers in distant lands. So this very morning of the day on which I write this missive, we arose long after the sun had risen (well, this IS the longest day) and set off for the city of the East where we hope that brides are not Kil-led. When a gun went off at the start of proceedings, we wondered.

Through the miracles of technology from a distant Galaxy (sorry, it was a Mars in the goody bag), we were shackled by the ankle and amazingly all was revealed as each traveller reached the Nirvana that is The Finish. Some fellows clearly being chased by the Police passed us as we reached the end of the first circuit - it turns out they were in the same event but we found that hard to believe, so well were we travelling.

So it came to pass that, at around three leagues, Mrs Woman kissed Mr Man and disappeared into the distance - clearly some illegal substances have no doubt been involved for a woman to beat a man. After a gentle stroll the rest of the way (it must have been since I have absolutely no memory of anything else), Nirvana appeared on the horizon. There, smiling in triumph was Mrs Woman having accomplished 2:06:16 whilst I strolled in at 2:08:12. The picture confirms that the woman was more exhausted than the man. This represent a Personal Best for Mrs and not for Mr. Still, my PB was thirty years ago so I suppose it counts only as a fading memory.

So the tail-piece of this saga can only be humble gratitude to all those kindly folk who so generously donated a portion of their hard-won assets to the benefit of the suffering of the world. We're rubbish - but thankfully you're not.

Colin & Judith Tipping