A lesson in humility
Max had chosen one of his favourite podcasts for the walk to Clapham Common because he wanted to listen to something inspirational on the way to his first run club.
He was nervous, riddled with anxiety, and so he needed something to focus his mind on so he didn’t take the easy way out and head home instead.
Max knew he had to do this. No matter how difficult it was, or how anxious it made him, if he wanted to make the changes he knew he needed, this was the first step.
He needed to get outside of his comfort zone, which felt like it had been getting smaller and smaller over the last eighteen months.
Like the flyer said, he had to stop running away from his problems and start running!
As Max walked towards Temperance Fountain, he saw a group of people in running gear, standing around talking, stretching, and this was it.
Max was going to join Common People Run Club.
He walked tentatively towards them, seeing a middle-aged woman with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, who seemed to be the most talkative, and another quite overweight man, maybe in his fifties, a young woman, late twenties, pale skin with flame red hair and freckles, stretching in leggings and a black top.
There was another older woman, Indian, slim, definitely the oldest in the group, and a tall man in his early thirties by the look of it, who definitely gave off city-boy vibes.
Even though he was in work-out gear, he still had a certain demeanour that Max had seen a thousand times before.
Max stopped for a moment, his heart racing, his doubts getting the better of him, and he could feel his chest tighten with anxiety.
‘You OK?’ said a bright voice suddenly.
Max had been so lost inside his own mind, he hadn’t seen them coming. ‘Sorry, what?’
‘I asked if you were OK,’ said a young woman, who was suddenly standing in front of him in a running outfit.
She had on black Lululemon leggings, a tight white top and a pair of blue Asics trainers.
She was pretty with large dark eyes, brown hair and slightly olive skin.
Definitely English with a slightly posh accent, but perhaps with a Mediterranean parent or parents.
‘Umm, yeah, fine.’
‘Are you here for run club?’
Max looked across, and it seemed that everyone in the group had now stopped what they were doing, and they were all watching Max and the young woman talking. She reminded Max of a prefect at school taking a new pupil under their wing. She had definite head girl vibes.
‘Yeah, just, first time, you know. Bit nervous.’
‘You’ll be fine, we’re a good bunch. I’m Bethan.’
‘Max,’ he replied, and she smiled at him. A beautiful smile with adorable dimples in her cheeks, and he instantly felt more at ease.
‘Right then, Max, let’s introduce you to everyone else.’
Bethan walked off towards the group and Max followed behind her.
Whether he wanted to bolt or not, he was now in.
The good thing was, the group seemed to be quite a mixed bag of people, of varying ages and weights, and so the terrifying thought that he was walking into a group of extremely fit ultra-marathon runners, who would all leave him for dead, was something he didn’t need to worry about.
Perhaps he wouldn’t end up pulling a hamstring, hobbling around in agony for days, or having a heart attack like Robbie had suggested.
Max followed Bethan until they reached the group, and she introduced him.
‘This is Max. He’s a newbie,’ said Bethan, and immediately the middle-aged woman with the blonde hair stepped forward with a warm, eager smile.
‘How you going, Max? I’m Hope,’ she said with a broad Australian accent. ‘And I started this small rag-tag group of runners. I’m an Aussie, obviously, from Sydney, but I’ve been in London for over ten years now.’ She left a pause, which Max was clearly meant to fill.
‘Hi, I’m Max. Sorry you already know that because Bethan just said my name. Anyway, yes, I’m here to join the group.’
‘That’s awesome! Right, let me introduce everyone.
You’ve already met Bethan. She’s one of our best runners, so watch out for her.
She’s small, but faster than she looks. This is Charlie,’ she said, and the tall city-boy stepped forward.
He was dressed in all black like a corporate ninja with floppy chestnut hair, and a top-of-the-line Apple Watch on his left wrist.
‘All right, mate,’ said Charlie in a deep public-school voice, shaking Max’s hand far too vigorously, as if he was trying to prove his masculinity. Max tentatively smiled back.
‘I’m Joe,’ said the older, overweight man, in a thick East London accent. ‘Joe Mitchell. Black cab driver, if you need a lift home after, and I’ve watched every episode of Eastenders.’
‘Right, thanks, Joe, but I live just around the corner, and wow, every episode of Eastenders? That’s impressive.’
‘Nineteen-eighty-five to the present day. That’s over seven thousand episodes. My missus thinks I’m barmy, but no matter where I am, I never miss an episode.’
‘I’m Eve,’ said the pale girl in an Irish accent. ‘From Dublin.’
‘Nice to meet you, Eve.’
‘And finally, Anita Kapoor,’ said Hope, and the slim older woman stepped forward.
‘Hello Max, welcome to the group,’ she said in a soft voice, etched with an Indian accent.
‘Right then, shall we start?’ said Hope, clapping her hands and then holding them together, and before Max could ask any questions, or do anything else, it seemed that Common People Run Club was underway.
However, instead of stretching or warming up, everyone sat down in a small circle on the grass beside the fountain.
‘We always do a quick go around before the run, Max. Everyone checks in, tells us what’s going on with them.
Why don’t you start today? Tell us a little bit about yourself. ’
Max sat in the circle, and all eyes were suddenly on him.
He could feel nerves shooting through his body, his heart rate was definitely more like it would be if he was actually running, and he felt the anxiety that had infiltrated his life since the accident, gradually filling his head with stress.
When he had started at the BBC, first as an intern, then a junior researcher, he had countless meetings and group sessions when he had to introduce himself, and he hadn’t been nervous in the slightest. He had the confidence of youth then, and the luxury of never having the emotional stuffing knocked out of him.
He took a deep breath, looking around the group of smiling, friendly faces, and he took the plunge.
‘I’m Max Lawson. I’m twenty-six, and I work at the BBC as a researcher. I live in Clapham with my flatmate Robbie. He’s Scottish, and makes incredible sandwiches. I saw a flyer for this run club on the noticeboard at my local coffee shop. I’m not a runner, but thought I’d give it a go.’
‘That’s ace, good on ya!’ said Hope enthusiastically. Max immediately warmed to Hope, and her infectious Australian energy. She made him feel welcome, and like an instant part of the group. ‘Anyone else have anything to add or ask Max?’
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Charlie said. ‘Are you training for the Clapham Half?’
All eyes were on Max again. ‘The what, sorry?’
‘The Clapham Half Marathon. It’s in ten weeks. I’m shooting for a sub two.’
‘Let’s not get bogged down with times,’ said Hope. ‘It can demotivate some people, Charlie.’
‘I’ll be happy just to finish,’ chipped in black cab driver Joe with a chuckle.
‘Me too,’ said Anita. ‘I have four children, ten grandchildren, and technically I’m an OAP!’
‘It’s good to have clearly defined objectives,’ said Charlie, and clearly the city-boy vibe was strong. ‘Got to unleash maximum growth for the best returns. It’s a no-brainer, right?’
‘Jesus Christ, do you ever give it a feckin’ rest?’ said Eve pointedly, rolling her eyes. Her voice had a beautifully melodic Irish cadence, but her face was sharpened with annoyance.
‘Maybe let’s just focus on what’s ahead of us today,’ said Hope. ‘Although if you’re interested in the Clapham Half, Max, we’re all giving it a go. No pressure. It’s just a bit of fun.’
‘Umm, yeah, maybe,’ replied Max, but the thought of doing a half-marathon in ten weeks seemed ridiculously impossible. He couldn’t run for thirteen minutes, let alone for thirteen miles!
‘Any other business?’ said Hope, and then Bethan raised her hand. ‘Yes, Bethan, what is it?’
‘Are we still on for the cold plunge and sauna this weekend?’
‘Oh, right yeah, thanks for reminding me,’ said an excited Hope. ‘It’s on for this Saturday morning at nine o’clock, right here on the common. I hope you can all make it.’ Everyone nodded, and then Hope looked at Max. ‘You up for a bit of a cold plunge and a sauna, Max?’
‘Umm, yeah?’ said Max, with literally no idea what it entailed, and if it was something he could actually do.
He had heard about cold plunges, and he had been in a sauna once at a hotel in the Lake District on holiday with his parents, and his overarching thought at the time was that it was just too hot, but if everyone else was doing it, then maybe he should pop along too. I mean, how awful could it be?
Five minutes later, and everyone was up and stretching, which varied considerably from Joe, who was doing some very slow and not very deep lunges, to Charlie, who was for some reason, doing push-ups and then sit-ups, before he started doing some vigorous high-knee sprints on the spot.
He was definitely all-in on going big. Max stationed himself next to Bethan, who was stretching out her calf muscles by going on her tip-toes and then back down again.
This seemed more like the light stretching that Max had in mind.
‘How far are we running today?’ asked Max.
‘It’s just a gentle jog. Maybe three miles, but it’s at your own pace.’
‘Let me guess, Charlie will be off like a greyhound?’
Bethan laughed. ‘You got it in one.’