Bum, I forgot to post this one.

Which is about bums. As a runner you do tend to find that the whole of your race is spent chasing bottoms. I would like to say that as a runner, you do also, realise fairly early on that there are so many different shapes, contours, sizes, oscillations in lycra when it comes to runners bottom (when encased in lycra pants and being subjected to the running motion, bottoms, particularly female bottoms, not being sexist here, few men wear Lyrca bottoms, tend to oscillate, like ripples across an ocean). I tend to think that my autobiography could be called 'oscillations in Lycra'. So I would like to celebrate the bottom, in all its various manifestations, I will never cease to be fascinated by runners bottom as they are like snowflakes, no two are alike. I shall not be describing my bottom, don't ask. It would make Rodin, jealous.

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