I am writing this in an airport awaiting my delayed flight home. I have been visiting a beloved friend in Newcastle-Gateshead in the north east of England for a few days and I took the opportunity to run both days I have been here. Isn’t it great how simply going for a run makes a huge difference to how well you know a new place and the different perspective it can give you?
It was very refreshing to run somewhere new and, as a major city, somewhere where an investment has been made to create a route for walkers, runners and cyclists. Oh and kayakers and rowers as the path runs only inches from the legendary River Tyne.
The route was well used and all this company was very nice on the first day.
Unfortunately, on the second day I had a run in with one of The Cyclists.
The path is very narrow in places, just wide enough for 1 person so you would need to stand in to allow another person to pass. I was running without any sounds at all so I could be aware of others and was wearing my hi-viz pink top so there was no way you could miss me. Suddenly, I became aware of a quiet noise behind me. As I tried to see which direction it was coming from The Cyclist appeared, about 2 inches from my heel.
Slamming on his brakes like I had just appeared (did I mention the hi-viz pink?) he skidded, swerved and landed on the grass verge. Then began to slide gently towards the river.
Gobsmacked I weighed up my options; should I grab him? Shout for help? Maybe it was a trick? Then as fast as he had fallen he was up again scrambling up the wet bank, on his bike and gone. Without a word.