Sunday 12 May 2013

The Jogger




I watched her walk passed me, tall, slim and in the full running kit; tight leggings, vest, cap, trainers and headphones. But she wasn’t running, she was powerwalking. Something told me this girl was not out exercising in the sunset this evening, no this girl was on a mission. There was something about the steely look in her eyes and the severe determination on her face that told me this could end in tears. She strode on, down to the river and then along the embankment; her pace steady, as if marching to a sergeant-major barking orders, I wondered if the iPod attached to her earphones was playing ‘sound of, one two sound of, three four.’
She was certainly on a mission and I wondered what the hell the mission could be.  I didn’t have to wonder long. She seemed to be heading straight towards a couple stood feeding swans, I watched as the male threw bread high into the sky and a seagull swooped out of the air to catch it,only to be rewarded for its acrobatics by being chased by 4 or 5 other hungry gulls. The female threw her head back, laughing as the male threw another chunk of bread for another seagull to catch. The marching girl was getting closer. Even from this distance I could see her body language was still angry. She stopped in front of the couple and without a word launched the most fearsome right hook I have ever seen. It was a haymaker of giant proportions. It connected just below the male’s cheekbone and he staggered back two steps before slumping to the ground perilously close to the river. His partner fell to her knees to help her stricken lover while the marching girl turned on her heel and walked with the same purpose back from whence she came.
‘sound of, one two sound o,f three four.’
She kept the rhythm all the way back, but as she passed me for a second time, I could have sworn that I saw the slightest of smiles on her face.



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