Running on Plenty

Here's a selection of those we've received so far. . .

Village Entourage
by COLIN BREEN

A few weeks before my first marathon, work took me to coastal Tanzania. Having put off a 10 mile tapering run due to the heat, I finally gave in and headed down a bush track one late afternoon in 30 degree heat.

A few miles in, I ran through a village where a large number of women, many fully veiled, were returning from the fields and a local well carrying large bundles of wood and buckets of water. All started to run alongside me, garments and water spilling everywhere, jokingly shouting “kipara Mzungu”, roughly translated in KiSwahili as “baldy foreigner”, both at myself and each other.

Coming through the settlement more and more villagers emerged to laugh hysterically at this short, stout and indeed very folically-challenged pink Irishman and proclaim my alien baldness to all.

The more I tried to speed up, the louder the laughter.

Large beads of both sweat and humiliation flowed off my body until I was literally trying to sprint out of the village and lose my ever-growing entourage. Two further runs during my stay consisted of endless circuits of the compound where we were lodged to avoid a repeat display of Irish physique and athleticism.

Mellow Yellow
by NICOLA COCHRANE

My first Dublin women’s mini-marathon was 2004. I entered the race to give me a goal. At that point my big fear was whether I could actually run 10km.

When the day arrived I had shorts and vest ready and felt like a “proper runner” except I was lily white. So I bought some instant tan which I liberally applied. I was ready to go when my husband sensibly reminded me to put on some sun cream.

On the bus, I noticed a slightly ochre glow. Just the light, I consoled myself. I went into a public toilet and the horrible truth was there staring back from the mirror. I was yellow from head to toe, totally yellow.

Somehow the sun cream had interacted with the fake tan. I tried to wash it off but it refused to budge. I considered my options: go home, yellow-faced or carry on canary.

I ran the race. My yellow skin streaked to my socks as I poured sweat.

I got horrified looks from babies and children but I kept running out of pure embarrassment and managed to finish within an hour.

Running for three
by LIZ GLEESON

In 2009, after only three months running, I signed up for my first half marathon – the Achill half marathon.

Every kilometre felt like torture. I couldn’t get why it was all such a challenge given that my training had gone pretty well. I literally cried coming over the finish line, both in relief and exhaustion.

I realised when I got home that it had been so challenging because I was pregnant – with twins!

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TELL US YOUR MOST embarrassing running story in 200 words or less and you could win a stay in Sligo’s Radisson Blu hotel, and two race entries to the Sligo Half Marathon on September 15th.

Shorts around your ankles? Taking a wrong turn straight into a ditch? Tell us where it all went hilariously wrong for you at irishtimes.com/bodyandsole or to bodyandsole@irishtimes.com

Closing date: Wednesday, August 22nd

For more info on the race: sligocitymarathon.com