Running in Heels...without the glamour

Seven hours and 10 minutes is how long I spent on public transport on Saturday.

Bus, tube, train, train, tube, tube, taxi – Ealing, London Victoria, Durrington-on-Sea (27 minutes outside of Brighton), London Victoria, Camden and then back to Ealing.

If there’s one cliché most appropriate for the mammoth adventure it’s the one that goes something like it’s not where we finally end up but the journey itself in getting there.

And a journey it was.

You know those films where the main character is running through an airport desperately hoping to stop the love of their life getting away before it’s too late?

They’re all immaculately dressed, hair in place and never look flushed.

In my film, the scene would go like this: 9.40am – Victoria train station – very busy. I’m in my floaty dress, heels and scarf running across the station to platform 17 which Sod’s Law would have it, was the furthest away. I’m running and praying that I make the 9.47 train. Enter very elderly couple with walking sticks who I dodge past without breaking my speed. I’m ashamed at my lack of patience. Enter next backpackers queuing at the ticket machine. I pushed through hoping that I did not knock one over. Then of course lets bring in a dog on a leash. Thankfully the worst did not happen where I would trip and fall in front of hundreds of people.

Running is not a strong point of mine. However when the adrenaline kicked in, I discovered I can run. If only I also had Moses’ power to magically separate the crowd, creating an open space.

Whilst running my scarf was flapping all over the place, hitting people on the way and my hair, which I spent 15 minutes putting up, was now coming apart. On top of all that I was sweating. Yes in my film, had I caught up with the love of my life, he would have taken one glance at my sorry state and boarded the plane in extra speed!

So I just about all made it onto the train, getting some oxygen when the conductor announces that the carriages will be split halfway so can all passengers ensure we’re in the right coaches. Typically I got on the wrong one.

All that time spent travelling on Saturday got me thinking.

I thought how funny it would be if I was on the wrong carriage and ended up somewhere far, far away. One day I’d like to experience the freedom of grabbing my railcard, picking any random destination on the board and just spending a day or weekend there. It would have to be somewhere I’ve never heard of or so completely out of the way that it would require more than one change. I’d get off at the chosen place and without a single clue or plan I’d just walk north.

Then I thought about writing a book. Something light, trashy and fun. Maybe I should turn this blog into a book. While attending all these weddings, the heroine finds herself. OK so the plot is not unique but I’m sure someone would read it on a beach holiday.

Strangest of all I got to thinking about wedding vows which is unlike me in every sense. I decided that I prefer personal vows to the traditional have and to hold/ in sickness and in health/ till death do us part and so on. In my head groom’s words are inspired from a Shakespeare’s sonnet or Nicholas ‘The Notebook’ Sparks novel. Yes even in my imagination I still have unrealistic expectations!

I’m sure I must have chuckled to myself during my thoughts. Bless the man sat across from me who most probably was only thinking: Help. Get me away from this lunatic.