Run Report by Duds
A hardy bunch of runners met in squalid conditions at the above mentioned venue.
With the Peking (that one's for Kate) Olympics in full swing at the moment it would be fitting to present a Gold medal to the pub owners (Larry and Barry - sorry but I can't remember their names) for the free chilli con carne [it was the landlord's birthday], a Silver medal to the weather gods {every cloud has a ...... lining} and a Bronze medal to Jules for his map reading (not up to his usual standards last night I might add). More about all that later...
For those "in the know", the route was the usual one with the high point being the free view of the Wycombe Wanderers v Birmingham City game [or at least the warm up] and hearing the quiet rendition of "we love you Wycombe we do" by the hardy 300 or so loyal supporters packed into the top of the stands to avoid the horizontal rain [WW lost 0-4 by the way]. It was probably also the muddiest run that we have been on in a long while and the amount of stinging nettles / thorns and running off in the wrong direction at one point being the low points (I can still feel the tingling on my shins even as I type today) for the 5 "fitties (?)" at least [Selwyn, David and Jerome having taken an easier route which apparently avoided anything remotely uncomfortable; apart from the actual running that is....].
After an hour and twenty minutes (and hour and five for the fatties apparently] we all met in the bar for the usual enjoyable part of the evening. The thing I particularly remember from the run was the amusing semi-hump that Mrs Hucks had because of all the sh*te we were constantly wading / slipping through. Poor Jules naturally copped most of the blame for this and the rest of the "fitties" all backed off from criticising Jules in any way knowing full well that he was going to get it in the neck later anyway from his better half. I also distinctly remember sticking my nose in on the home leg and strongly advising Amanda to withdraw all conjugal rights on their holiday for at least.....a day or so. It will be interesting to hear how long this sexual famine lasted {we look forward to full report when you return from the Pyrenees please Jules and Amanda}....
Anyway, the banter in the pub ranged from talk of windsurfing to cycling (which position is better for hill climbing - standing up on the pedals or sitting down and pumping the legs like a madman/woman) to how the Chilli con carne tasted a bit like Spaghetti Bolognese gone wrong [a bit more spice landlady next time please otherwise the dish would just be called "a teaspoonful of rice, kidney beans and grated cheese con carne" wouldn't it !?] to how robotic and scary all the Chinese divers/gymnasts/etc. are to Jerome's weird/naughty dreams induced by those please-stop-me-smoking arm patches and how they should really invent a please-stop-me-eating arm patch to put on the other arm to counteract the inevitable weight gain caused by giving up smoking [Jerome reckons he could well be 20 stone by the time he next visits The Chequers] to the fairly brutal ways by which one can stop ones kids sucking their thumb to the need for a new method to stop ones kids biting their nails [by the way, Juliette wore a pair of silk Disney-character elbow length gold gloves in bed last night....did the trick apparently].
There was some debate as to where we should run from next week (20th) but after a long discussion we decided to run from the Fox and Hounds at Christmas Common as we haven't done that one for a while.
See as many of you as possible there for 7pm.
Duds.
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