Karen writes: How to get a smile out of a Wellingtonian

Just had an unscheduled trip to Wellington for a meeting.  Oh dear, the training plan said I was meant to be cycling and swimming, but running shoes are ever the portable option so running it was.  Shoes and two sets of running clothes in the cabin luggage, I had more running gear with me than anything else for my one and a half days away.

In the evening I headed off for my run, going down the long hill towards the harbour.  I wanted to get an idea of the distance to the mornings meeting venue and with my tendency to get lost, check out the route.  It was very windy, and I was wearing a light singlet and running tights which would have been absolutely fine if I hadn't stopped for what seemed to be dozens of traffic lights.  How do people run like that having to stop all the time?  Six km later it was getting dark and I was ready to return.  But I was hungry.  I saw lots of food places as I zigzagged up those confusing city streets, but nothing I wanted to really go into and risk dripping sweat on their carpet. Ah, the welcoming lights of the ubiquitous M fast food restaurant, no carpet, no waiting.  Into the shop, do you have any drinks in a bottle?  Yes, a kid size juice.  I ran out again, clutching the instantly identifiable printed paper bag and my sipper bottle, and ran 2km up the hill to consume my spoils in the peace of my hotel room.

You know, it was the only time I managed to extract any smiles out of those Wellington dwellers? Mad runner goes out in the wild wind for totally inappropriate dinner.  It was worth it.

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