Thursday, 8 November 2012
Sur - prize!
In my typical daily haze I wondered why I had been included in this circulation for as I recalled I hadn’t been before. There again maybe I had and just read any previous emails from that address then deleted without a second thought, you know, as you sometimes do. On opening the message I then noticed that it was actually addressed to me. Still confused the penny then dropped. Seems that I had been awarded the Sweatshop Monthly Prize for
. Me? Never! Me? Surely not me? Double check, aye definitely me right enough. Edinburgh Cannae believe this like! Difficult to say how I felt. A bit chuffed, a bit confused, slightly unworthy and ultimately wondered that there had been some dreadful mistake.
. He knew but didn’t think I’d be informed by HQ quite so quickly. I argued furiously that there were other more deserving members of the parkrun community than I and that if I was ever to be in line then it would significantly further down a burgeoning list if even at all. I even threw a few names in the ring. No matter, I still felt a bit dirty about it, a bit like having stolen a Penny Dainty (remember those, Mint Cracknel, there’s another) from the corner shop. Tasted great at the time but when the guilt kicked in it was all a little bittersweet. Gary's reassurance was beginning to get through. Yes I had come to the rescue on a couple of occasions when the event was threatened by bad weather. Yes I am a regular attendee but I ain’t no persistent 100% attender like Andy McLeod. Yes I am notably interested and continually espouse the virtues of our wee collective to those who I guess will be interested. Can you see the common thread? I could see plainly that I probably have done nothing more than most others would do hence the reluctance. Gary the 'go to' RD
Aye, but wait, worse was to come. Couple of days later, start line, usual announcements and directions via the mega phone and then that fateful moment, ‘Last months Sweatshop Monthly Prize winner is blah, blah, blah.’ I had to stand there screaming inside. Naw, naw, naw
, what are you doing to me. Round of applause, quick wave to the cheering masses as my face burned. Aye, cheers Gaz! Quickly Mr. Timer man, say go and let me run free from these surroundings of mortal embarrassment. Gary
What was I to do? It was a real dilemma. Well I’ll tell you what I did. Certificate printed out, Sweatshop at David Lloyd, treadmill, try, compare, bish-bosh, new Mizuno fellows, eBay, just the ticket. OK, not the eBay bit. Jobs a good ‘un!
Oh yeah and erm… ta!