Karen writes: Crazy Lady

I got back from my bikeride Saturday, leapt off the bike at the bottom of the driveway and sat down to take my shoes off.  A man walking past asked if I was alright, I said I was fine thanks and he smilingly made a comment about being "crazy".

Perhaps I am.  My exercise morning had started nearly four hours previously., After an early breakfast I went for a quick cycle along the coast to warm up then rode up the hill to the local school where the Tai Chi classes are held.  I got some peculiar looks when I arrived wearing my fluoro finery, in fact it took a bit for anyone to recognise me, perhaps not having the two children in tow, or it could have been the headgear.  After 90 minutes of gentle willow waving, doves flying and cloud movements, jammed the helmet on, back on the bike, down the hill and pedal for another couple of hours.  Crazy lady.

It was the local volunteer Coastguard awards dinner on Saturday night, I listened to speeches, ate too much, and went home early, too tired from the day's exertions to be sociable for too long. Confidentially, the prospect of an early run can sometimes be a help as much as a chore, offering a pretty much unassailable excuse for an easy exit, perhaps no-one wants to argue with the crazy lady?

Mangegangeroa boardwalk

So Sunday morning I joined the Te Puru runners for an away run doing a very hilly, and initially chilly, route outside Howick at Mangemangeroa reserve. Eating too much the night before doesn't work well, you feel 'blah' and you definitely don't want to have the early breakfast necessary to fuel a long run. I dressed the part, skin-tight tri-shorts, fluffy hat and buff scarf, stripey thermal top and headed into town. I ran with the Te Puru runners for a bit, then kept going after they left to finish off a couple of hours, a slooooow upstairs and downstairs 16km, then decided that since I was in town I should buy the week's groceries.  When I got under the bright lights of the pristine supermarket among all the respectably attired Meadowlands matrons I suddenly realised I was...um... under-dressed. Funnily enough though, I wasn't the only one who was obviously post exercise. We lycra-ed few risked sideways glances at each other's grubby legs, red faces being cooled by the deli fridges, an excess of treat foods in our trolleys and exchanged half-embarrassed smiles.  Not the only crazy one.