Now that the evenings are getting longer, a red faced, lycra-clad species has appeared in our local parks - the Mapirs (middle-aged people in runners).
Now that 'summer' is here, city parks are alive with the laboured breathing of fortysomething novice runners. Some are solo, others in groups, some have dogs, others wear backpacks, and some are just on their way home from work.
I know because I am one of them, putting on the lycra, slogging my way around the park's perimeter, putting up with amused glances from teenagers, knowing that they know and I know they could outrun...
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