Waiting for the 639 / Esperando pelo 639
The summer seems reluctant to leave so I’d rather be running topless. Officially, though, it’s autumn and the rules today dictate that a vest must be worn; a practical demand because otherwise where would I pin the 639? Sacrificing a lazy afternoon to race five kilometres can be explained in reasonable terms – health and fitness benefits, the athletic gesture, mind over body philosophy. But attaching the running number directly to the belly? That smacks of masochism, a line I haven’t crossed, unlike the one painted across the Siggiewi by-pass road.
This was race one in a series of 5 and 10-kilometre events organised by the Malta Amateur Athletics Association and held on streets around the island. For the occasion, I rejoined the club I was in a couple of years ago when still bitten by the competitive bug – Mellieha AC. The kit was not the same as the other club members because mine was…
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