Return of the cows (and about bloody time too)
I don’t do my running commute on Tuesday due to having run on Monday, and Wednesday night I’m in Kent counting sheep thus proving that a) I can count to 11; and b) Shaun isn’t lying when he says that there are usually more than three sheep at the bottom of his garden.
Thursday I’m too knackered to do my running commute due to not getting home ’til about 1am and Friday I’m not feeling well and even feel unwell enough to pass on a girly night out with free champagne but on the train home after work I’m doing my usual looking-out-of-the-window-to-see-if-the-cows-are-there thing and fuck, THE COWS ARE THERE!!!!! Woo and hoo indeed. At least, I think they’re cows as I haven’t got my glasses on but they definitely look like cow shaped lumps to me and I get a bottle of wine to celebrate the return of the cows and also some crisps and chocolate and I go home and drink wine and eat chocolate and crisps and get up this morning bright and early and remember the cows are there and so I head out and wait about sixteen hours for my Garmin to get a signal and I go and stand over the other side of the road to see if it’ll pick it up any better from there and I see a strange ladybird type bug thing that’s black with orange spots.
My Garmin springs into action by the time I’ve finished taking photos of the strange ladybird bug type thing with orange spots and I decide to take in Springfield Park as I’ve got to do seven miles this morning and when I get to the top of the hill that I
walked up really really slowly sprinted up really really quickly I see two recycling bins pretending to be cows.
But they can’t fool me and I know they’re not real cows and so I continue on my quest to find some cows and I go over the boardwalk and look over to where the cows should be and I can’t see any cows and I walk a bit more and I still can’t see any cows and I think I’m going to cry or puff my cheeks out or stamp my feet or maybe even all three at the same time but then I think I can see some cow shaped lumps in the grass and then I see a tail waving and HOORAY THE COWS REALLY ARE BACK. Yee hah. And so I run up to where the cows are and there’s a man going towards the cows and I’m thinking get the fuck away from my cows now but he doesn’t get the fuck away from my cows and he goes over to the fence and I think that’s not fair, I want to stand there, that’s nearer the cows and then I wonder if I get my camera out will he fuck off and I get my camera out and he does indeed fuck off and I take pictures of the cows.
And this year’s cows are even meaner looking than last year’s cows.
And after I’ve finished looking at cows I remember I’m supposed to be half marathon training and so I say goodbye to the cows and continue on my run and I get back to the path by the river and there’s a man in running gear taking photos and I’m thinking oi, I’m the only runner over the marshes allowed to take photos and I wonder if he’s got a blog and I don’t know if he’s got a blog but he has got two bottles of water in his belt and I think two bottles of water? why do you need two bottles of water and I continue over the bridge and past the sex change pub and through the filterbeds and then I’m feeling a bit knackered and I stop to walk and two bottles of water man passes me and then he stops and takes a photo of some ducks and I see that actually he has four bottles of water and I think how thirsty can someone get? and as I get closer I see that actually it’s five bottles of water and I’m thinking fucking hell and I realise that it’s probably six bottles, three on each side and his t-shirt is covering the sixth bottle and I’m wondering if actually they’re all empty and he just can’t be arsed to take them out of the belt thing and he’s still taking photos of the river and I wonder if he’s doing the same route as me but when I get to the edge of the marshes he’s disappeared and I see this sign
and the pedant in me is pretty sure that it should be practising with an “s” not a “c” and then the pedant in me is also wondering why Golf has a capital “G” and then just to be really really pedantic, I’m thinking it’s not a park, it’s the marshes and wasn’t there anyone at Hackney Council who was involved in the process of making this sign born with more than half a brain cell and I’m thinking obviously not and I continue on my run and I get to the foresty bit and there’s a man fishing and I thought there was a sign to say no fishing and I’m thinking OI, MISTER, LEAVE THOSE FISH ALONE and I’m wondering whether I should take his photo and plaster it all over the internet, thus letting the whole of the world know that he’s a fish killer and I’m thinking it’s probably not worth it and I don’t think the Fish Killer of Hackney is really going to make front page news and so I carry on and I go over the bridge and a cyclist dismounts and I think bloody hell, a cyclist doing what they’re supposed to? Blimey. And it’s an old man on an orange and silver Brompton and I’ve been seeing so many Bromptons every day that yesterday I decided to start counting them but I only saw four on the way to work and two on the way back, which is nowhere near the dozen or so I saw on the way home on Thursday and then I get back to the stables and I need to do another mile and a half and I’m not a mile and a half from home so I decide to go back out the marshes the way I came in and I see two girls in pink running gear walking really slowly and I wonder if they’re training for a Race for Life and I look at my Garmin and I’m on 6.66 miles and then I wonder if Gary’s going to wear an Iron Maiden t-shirt tonight and then I think of course he is, I’ve never seen him wear anything else in the 15 years that I’ve known him and I wonder if Shaun’s going to wear his Slayer t-shirt like he said he was going to and I’ll have to be seen out in public with two heavy metal t-shirt wearing men, eek.
Distance: 7.9 miles
Ladybirds with orange spots: 1
Recycling bins pretending to be cows: 2
Cows not pretending to be recycling bins: 5
Men with six water bottles: 1
Signs with the correct spelling of the word “practising”: 0
Fish killers: 1
Siouxsie & The Banshees
Plain White Ts
Ben Folds Five