Joy, Joy, Jubilee

Don’t worry, I’m not feeling joyful, jubilant or joyful about the Jubilee. I’m still feeling flat about running and about life in general, don’t fret.

This morning, though, I was determined that I would find something to write about on my run. It was supposed to be a sunny day, after months of cold grey mornings, and I looked forward to talking of blue skies and hope. It wasn’t. The gloves were off, at least, but the clouds remained.

2.5 miles had passed before a smile threatened my lips. Midway through my run I have to spend five minutes crossing the Holloway Road. It’s one of my least favourite things to do. I hate stopping for anything, but particularly for leering van drivers at 6.30am. There are three crossings to wait for and their timings are staggered to cause maximum irritation to pedestrians. Waiting, I lose all motivation to run and start dreaming of breakfast.

This morning, though, after a new personal best slowest crossing yet, I was greeted by this splendid sight in the window of Vivien of Holloway. What joy! If anything could make me a royalist, this dress would do it. With sash, naturally. And maybe a small tiara?