As a rather smooth McLaren Vale Shiraz begins its familiar journey down to meet its old, yet overworked friend, my liver, I would like to take this opportunity to communicate perhaps the simplest and also most underrated joys of running – that is the unbridled joy that accompanies the opening of a new pair of running socks. Casting my rather immature mind back to the Christmas of 1989, and my profound disappointment at receiving a pair of socks from my well-meaning parents, I feel quite ashamed and embarrassed at my inability to recognize the pleasure of wearing a new pair of socks. This morning’s run with that new cotton/polyster combination underfoot, had me feeling like I was in the lead pack of the Olympic marathon, and not simply plodding along the river path to the amusement of a raft of ducks and a collection of Japanese truck drivers sporting wolfish grins. There is something magical about that first run in a new pair of socks. The late great Stephen Hawking, in his famous quote, urged people to “look up at the stars and not down at your feet” – but with a new pair of socks wrapping my skinny calloused feet in a loving embrace, this Stephen Hawking advice may need to wait for another day!
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com
Japan Boy Running 