Runners

LOVE MEANS NEVER HAVINGTO SAY ‘I HATE YOU ALL’ILLUSTRATION: PIETARI POSTI``````030 RUNNERSWORLD.CO.UK JULY 2018YOU KNOW......you’re nervousbefore a racewhen someonewishes you goodluck and youscream ‘Get outof my head!’``````...you’re takingnutrition advicea little tooseriously whenyou sit downwith a nice bigbowl of turmeric.``````...you’re racingfar too oftenwhen the navycommandeersyour medalsbecause theyneed a newfrigate.``````egular readers will know an essential truth about me.I love runners. All shapes, all speeds, all sizes. I don’tdifferentiate in my admiration for anyone who laces uptheir trainers and sets forth into the world with a desireto get fit, run faster, feel better. It’s all good. But I’mhuman, so I’m imperfect and so are other runners. Thatmeans they occasionally annoy me. So I’ve constructeda list of runners who get on my nerves during races.First up, ‘the breathers’. This includes everyone,of course, but I’m talking about that throaty breathing,the type that makes you worry for the survival of the breather whilesimultaneously making you want to throw them into a river. If you catchsight of a breather’s face, their eyes are usually fixed at a point on thedistant horizon and they run as if being chased by wolves. Each breathis accompanied by mangled phrases, bizarre utterances, appeals to deities.I know it’s unreasonable of me but this behaviour falls under the categoryof ‘showboating’. We’re all knackered, after all. The unkind thought comesto mind that maybe they could put a sock in it. This group continues toannoy me after the race, when they can usually be found screaming ‘Yes!’repeatedly, clenching their fist and holding their Garmin aloft. I know I’mbeing very uncharitable and I swear that I don’t envy runners’ success –but can you not celebrate privately? (The only advantage of running in thesame race as a breather is that they often spur you on to faster times in abid to escape their tortured bellowing.)After unjustly slamming one group of runners, whose only crime is to trytoo hard, I turn my twisted attention to a group who don’t try hard enough- the runners who, midrace, exuberantly thank the marshal or volunteerin a loud and cheery voice. Every time. Every marshal. Now this isn’t tosay I’m not thankful to the volunteers who make racing possible. Theirdevotion in all weathers is humbling.It’s just that I’m often too knackeredto show it. But I’m grateful. In fact,I’m just as grateful as the runnerwho shouts. Therein lies myproblem: for every ‘Thank you!’hurled in the marshal’s directionI feel a hissed ‘You didn’t say“Thank you”’ directed at me. I feeljudged, even though I myself amfull of judgement. And then I think,‘If they’re so full of beans, why arethey racing at my level when theyhave the energy to run faster?’Who else? Oh yes, runners whotry to overtake me in the chute forthe finish stick in my craw. This isa cardinal sin for me.I have more: other runners whoexpress disappointment at my time.It’s my time. I earned it. The onlyreaction to any time is a hearty‘Well done!’ If I want to diminish it,I will, then we can all pile in.Another group who get my goatare newbies who are faster than Iam. Now this is utterly irrational.I have to accept that certainrunners annoy me because they areyounger, have run loads less and arefaster than I am. But they oftenhave heart-rate monitors and arewearing compression socks, whichintensifies my momentary disdain.Overstretchers annoy me. I get it.You’re f lexible. Runners who warmdown wind me up, too, because Iused to be able to do that and nowI’m too tired and looking for thechippy. Runners who want to talktoo much during a race annoy me,but so do runners who ignore mewhen I talk to them.As you can see, I’m confused. Oncethe race is done I love everyoneagain, even the ‘Yes!’ runners, whenthey’ve calmed down. The race iswhere we come together, but thankgoodness I can train alone.``````Tonky TalkBY PAUL TONKINSONR