I am taking a couple of weeks off the novel now. It is getting to the point where I’m losing motivation because I’ve been doing the same thing for several months. I will get back to it, but only when I have a burning urge to write a novel again. For the mean time, I will spend my free time reading and becoming inspired. If there are any recommendations, feel free to comment.
I went to the EDF Half Marathon in Birmingham last Sunday. My brother (the one who has his own house) had been running by the local canal over the past couple of months in preparation for his run. I had expected him to tell us when to wake up the day before when he came to visit us. However he didn’t, which meant that he was not planning to have us watch him cross the finish line from the sideline, beaming with joy.
Nevertheless, my mum suggested that we go and surprise him, as well as to fulfil my expectation, as I had been looking forward to going all week. We walked all the way to Broad Street from the car park. We arrived there to find a forest of sweating men and women padding under the bridge, wrapped in silver foil, which flashed and glittered in the sunlight. I’m not sure why this is, but I think it’s supposed to be a symbol that screams, “I ran 13 miles and made it!”, as their medals are probably too small to catch other people’s attention. No disrespect of course, running a marathon for charity is worth being proud of and showing off.
After an hour or two of watching and waiting, we came to the realisation that my brother must have finished a long time ago, as we couldn’t see him anywhere. Moreover, we know that my brother isn’t a slow runner. So we went to the stalls and bought a cheese burger and some hot dogs, which were lovely by the way. Beacon Radio was hosting the live music that was playing on stage by the finishing line. According to the Radio DJ on stage a 77 year old man took part in the marathon. To be honest, it doesn’t surprise me, as I saw a man of a similar age climbing Snowdon back in 2006 and another a few months ago on Ben Nevis.
Apparently people from all over Europe had taken part, which probably explains the thousands and thousands of people we saw. It’s funny now, because at the time I was thinking, “Surely there can’t be that many Sports enthusiasts in the West Midlands?” But then, there could have been participants from other parts of England, as far away as Manchester and London. Actually, the latter might be a little unlikely, as London have their own Marathons.
We then went to Handsworth for some grocery shopping. It’s a district in Birmingham, which is heavily populated by Asians. No, Birmingham is not racist; in fact it is one of the most multicultural parts of England. But I suppose as there are so many shops to run independently and Asians are well know to set up their own businesses, it’s natural that this part of the Midlands would become a less exotic Bazaar. And a Bazzar it is.
The baskets at front of supermarkets are filled with fruits and vegetables; the shelves in some shops are lined with miniature Buddhas laughing as their stomachs slouched and others with CDs of Bollywood tracks and religious hymns. But what always catches my eyes are mannequins posing at shop windows, clad in jewel embellished saris and suits. That’s the best thing about this place. I can always fantasise about wearing things that are too expensive for me. And perhaps I will never wear.
Unfortunately that night, as I was sat messing with my phone and half listening to the Xtra Factor (nothing else was on!), I heard a knock on the door. My brother and my sister in law had visited a few hours earlier to show off the medal, so naturally I thought they had forgotten something. Much to my horror, I opened the door to find a pair of painted green faces and pointed hats. “Trick or Treat” said the girls.
I opened my mouth as some mumbled sounds came out of it. It wasn’t so much that I was nervous. It was more out of disbelief and being stuck in an awkward moment with two strangers who, to be honest, seemed too old to go trick or treating. I eventually uttered “I haven’t any money”, to which they drawled a lazy “OK”, before walking off.
And that was the first time I didn’t have to lie I order to get some people to go away ;)
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