After our surprisingly successful 5k run around Centre Parcs, Dave and I decided to take on the parkrun this morning. It was a little on the chilly side, so we both layered up and arrived early, spending a good twenty minutes shivering our way through gentle jogs and stretches in an attempt to warm up.
All things considered, we were really pleased with how the run went. Even the hill — or rather the short incline — didn’t seem anywhere near as brutal as the steep climbs we’d faced at Centre Parcs. With the run done, we jumped back in the car, headed home, and did a quick change, ready for the afternoon’s entertainment.
We got the train into town, passing some of Glasgow’s brilliant murals along the way, including the one at the Old Fruit Market. I’d bought Bridget and Dave tickets for Christmas for an 80s brunch party. We made a modest attempt to dress for the occasion — though some people had gone all in with the outfits.
We were welcomed with a glass of fizz, and naturally made several return visits to the bar. We were glad when the food arrived as we were getting a bit tipsy. The entertainment was excellent, with covers of classic 80s artists including Madonna, ABBA, Bryan Adams, Queen and Whitney Houston. The singers were great fun and really got the audience involved.
Dave, unfortunately for him, was one of only a handful of men there and quickly became a magnet for the entertainers — much to Bridget’s and my amusement.
The final song of the afternoon was 500 Miles by The Proclaimers, and we were encouraged to join a conga around the room. Needless to say, we didn’t need much encouragement.
Since we were already in town, we headed to Merchant Square for another drink. I’d forgotten just how nice it is there — and interestingly, the male-to-female ratio was now completely reversed, with groups of men watching the football and rugby.
By the time we took a taxi home, we were all shattered. I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing — and probably sobering up — on the sofa, as Poppy had absolutely no interest in going out for a walk. Later in the evening I did persuade her to go out, though she wasn’t keen and kept pulling back towards home.
It turned out she had good instincts. Just as I got back, Dave was ringing my doorbell. He’d been out walking Molly and had an urgent need for a toilet. What are friends for?
As I finally settled down for the night, I was struck by how special the day had been. A cold morning run, music that carried us back in time, shared laughter, and the easy comfort of friendship and a reminder that joy often shows up when you’re not really looking for it. And sometimes, it even rings your doorbell.
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