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