One of those ‘born to run’ days.
Mapped out a 6 mile circuit up and down the Clyde but ended up swept along on a tide of fabulous music. I took the Clyde Pathway through the towers of steel and glass, ducking under a series of bridges spanning the arterial waterway. Into and through the tranquil Kinningy park, past the open football fields and on into heavenly leafy lanes.
I only stopped running when I realised the evening bird song was actually harmonising with
Shine On You Crazy Diamond - this is not the first time tghat nature has appeared to join in with music on a run. I stopped, moved by the synchronicity of the moment, gazing dreamily at my surroundings. It dawned on me that I’d left the city.In fact . . . God only knew where I was; graffiti speckled ancient walls along the increasingly densly foliated riverbank. Through broken, rotting wooden fences I could make out a rather large dishevelled caravan park. Decrepit fairground rides lay abandoned on litter-strewn streets; a mangy cat scuttled for cover under a wheel-less, burned out transit.
Well Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore . . .
I plodded on, all the while keeping an eye out for the gangs of urban pirates that no doubt lurked behind the crumbling brick facade adorned with the monikers of 'Monkey', 'Spider' and 'Chiv'. I imagined them launching down the embankment on stolen BMX bikes, a cruel parody of the kids in ET when they dashed through a suburban landscape a jizillion miles away from this one, ironically to escape the law . . . the thrill of the chase; the hunted Sasanach desperately evading the inevitable cuffed-boot kicking that comes with this kind of territorial invasion.
It was no good; at the next bridge I turned yellow-tail and head for home.
I’d been running well, relaxed, pleased to be racking up much needed paved mileage to a wonderful soundtrack. Now as my imagination ran riot my breathing took a turn for the shallow, my back tensed and began to ache; I’d be happy when I got back to the park. Of course no foul end befell me – in fact I barely saw another soul. Sadly, inevitably this failed to lighten my mood.
Why is no-one else using this towpath?
Because it's a notorious gangland killing field bisected by tribal boundaries you numpty. . .
If there's one thing worse than rhetorical questions it's smart-arsed rhetorical answers from the Id.
I counted bridges, as much to distract from self-inflicted mental torture as to give me an accurate mapping reference when reviewing this route on
Sanoodi. The music rescued me, too, bringing me back into line and refocusing my efforts on running steadily.
It’s important to maintain a controlled breathing pattern, a steady heart-rate. After all, if you were to have an unfortunate episode here of all places . . .
Shut up!
I ducked under a particularly low bridge, rounded a shaded s-bend and re-entered the park.
Lumbering past bridges seven and eight the malty fog from the brewery across the river adding an unsavoury odour to the occasion. An adolesent wabble of wowdy webels, several weilding long sticks, perched on the roadside railings, shiny eyes following the sweaty blob as it shuffled under the bridge.
Trip trap, trip trap . . .
Back at my hotel, just after bridge 14 – 28 if you count them out and back – sweat poured like relief onto the grey paving slabs. I chuckled at the arrogant folly of a so-called seasoned traveller carting himself, i-plod clearly displayed for every vagabond to covet, across the unfamiliar backwaters of a major European city.
I guess my
track du jour would have been The Members
Sound of the Suburbs. It wasn’t on my i-plod but is on the free CD I got with the
Sunday Times. I’ve been playing it non-stop on the DVD player in my room here. It’s a treat. I’ll plump for the last track on the following list – this honestly came on as I pulled up outside the hotel.
Discography of this evening’s run (in order, in some way to explain how I came to wander so far a-field):
Spanish Caravan – The Doors
Sweet Child O’ Mine – Guns N Roses
God Was Never On Your Side – Motorhead
Cheap Sunglasses – ZZ Top
Under The Gun – Motorhead
Shine On You Crazy Diamond – Pink Floyd
Matrix – Propellerheads
Roadhouse Blues – The Doors
Hooked – Girlschool
American Girl – Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
Roundabout – Yes
Free Fallin’ – Tom Petty
One Night Stand – Motorhead
Oh My God (I can't believe it)– The Kaiser Chiefs
Oh my God I can't believe it
I've never been this far away from home . . .
Run mapped on Sanoodi
Here’s a rubbish gag for you.
It’s stereotypical, inherently racist and the only association it has to PC is if I told it in public I’d get cautioned. But it’s all my own work, so there.
Cadbury Scotland have launched a new confection locally to be known as ‘Jocklate’.
It’s extremely thick, leaves a bitter aftertaste and is crammed full of nuts.
Eyethangyou.
May 2007 - It All Starts Here
