Common People

A run club to save your life

Max Lawson bent over and tied the laces of his trainers before he stood up, looking at himself in the full-length mirror he had leaned against his bedroom wall – a moving-in present from Emma.

He was in a long-sleeved grey running top, just above the knee black running shorts, white crew socks and the Nike trainers he had bought two years before and hardly used.

Two years before when everything in his life had felt perfect.

Before it had happened. They were trainers from a different lifetime.

He took a deep breath, and then left his bedroom, walking into the living area where his flatmate Robbie was in the kitchen making bread.

‘What do you think?’ said Max, standing in the middle of the lounge.

Robbie took a long look at Max, studying him closely, before he said in his Edinburgh burr. ‘Running wanker, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ replied Max with a nervous laugh. ‘But as running wankers go, how do I look?’

‘Aye, youse like mighty fine, pal.’

‘Thanks. How’s the bread coming on?’

‘Aye, no bad. It just needs a wee bit longer in the oven, then I’ll take her out.’

‘Maybe I can try it when I get back.’

‘I’m no working tonight, so I’m creating a new sandwich explosion!’

Robbie was a passionate Scotsman, and dived headlong into every venture, every new experience with the same level of enthusiasm, but he kept his most vigorous fervour exclusively for sandwiches.

‘Right, I’m off. See you later.’

‘If youse still walking.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Max, who started to walk out but Robbie stopped him.

‘Youse know I’m proud of you, pal. It’s been a shit fucking year and a half, and I know we joke, but I’m genuinely, no taking the piss, happy youse giving this run club thing a go.’

Max stopped and looked across the flat at Robbie, and for a moment he didn’t quite know what to say.

He knew that Robbie was being genuine, and he appreciated it, but Max was uncomfortable in situations like that.

Despite everything that had happened, he still didn’t know how to deal with genuine emotion.

It made him uncomfortable, even when he loved the person giving it to him.

So, instead of replying with something equally sincere and heartfelt, he replied with a simple, ‘cheers mate’.

The two flatmates stood in a slightly awkward silence, until it was broken by Robbie, who knew the best way of dealing with Max. ‘Now get the fuck outta here, youse running wanker!’

Max chuckled before he walked out of their flat towards Clapham Common to meet the rest of the run club.

He hadn’t done any sort of exercise for a long time, and he had no idea how far they would be running.

The flyer hadn’t given much detail, just a meeting place and a time.

What if they were planning on a swift 5k, Max was blowing after a mile, feeling his hamstrings after two, and then on the floor in a heap after three?

As he walked outside, slipping in his AirPods to listen to a podcast on his walk to Clapham Common, Max wondered what the hell he had got himself into, but then again, when he thought about it, could it be any worse than his current existence?

The obvious was a firm no. This wasn’t just a run club. This might just save his life.