Running

Beautiful Kitsilano in the rain. Once an affordable Bohemian part of town, according to one friend who lives there, it is now expensive and oh so very trendy. We went to Kits for lunch yesterday and then walked down to the bottom of Arbutus to the beach, where we paddled in the rain. British paddling that is, which involves taking your shoes and socks off, rolling up your trouser legs and standing just in the water holding your coat up. Canadian paddling involves a canoe or kayak.

Kevin and I watched the film 'Running with Scissors', titled I imagine, because you are always told not to do that. It was a beautiful, quirky film, and since it was based on the memoirs of the main character, thought-provokingly heartrending.

For some reason, the memory popped into the luggage carousel of my head the other day, of when I used to work at the running shoe shop.
My daughter Alex was about five months old and her dad used to bring her and Laurence to see me during my Saturday shift there sometimes.
It was an odd place for me to work really, given my complete lack of interest in sport, but somehow I was offered a Saturday job there, I'm sure through my then husband and I enjoyed it. You had to be trained to work out how people ran, whether they were given to pronate or supinate, roll their foot in or out as they ran. The shoe had to give enough room for the big toe but not too much room. Some runners had their favourite brands, others were open to recommendations.

Because of the specialisation of the shop, the customers were rarely if ever arsey, they were all runners, we sold little else but running shoes and gear. The shop manager, Jill, taught me a lot about professionalism that I carried with me when I went into teaching and subsequently management.

The shop was owned by the son of a famous four minute miler of the past and possibly because of the connection somehow, the shop's staff went up to the London Marathon. We had to identify the shoes that were worn as the runners crossed the finishing line. This was an easy task at first because the runners were coming in slowly, the winner, then the almost winners, but then they were coming in pretty thick and fast and it was difficult to record. I guess that's why we all went, so that our tallies could be compared.

But I was never able to run myself. I'm not lazy, ok, I was never sporty at school, but I cycle, swim and walk. I always wanted to be able to run because it was such a part of our lives at that time. Alex and Laurence's dad was a runner, (I hadn't yet had Ben at that time) we spent a good deal of time taking them to athletics meetings. And I did try, but I just couldn't. I would run a short way and just stop.
And there was an inherent boredom for me in running, and yet a boredom that I didn't ever find in walking.

I was reading my friend Raymond's blog the other day, where he talks about using the treadmill. I used to use the treadmill, but I found it dull. I could do it and watch the TV at the same time, but even then, I would have to alternate running with walking; scouts' pace.

In the end it doesn't matter. I admire those who can run, but I never yearned to be able to do it, simply felt I should or that it would be useful. In general though I'm an ambler. I have no competition in my soul just a needling interest in many things.