Running for buses

I’ve always prided myself on my ability to catch a bus. It doesn’t usually matter how far I have to run, I always make it just in time. But yesterday I was defeated. Near the Kieser Training gym, at Mornington Crescent, I saw a 29 coming down the road and started a slow jog in preparation for the big sprint to the bus stop. Maybe it was because this was a bendy bus that I got it wrong – but I left the sprint too late. When I got to the bus stop the doors had closed and the driver ignored my ‘palms out’ gesture of possible negotiation.

As the bus pulled off I suddenly felt old. This just doesn’t happen to me. Then I made a crucial mistake. “I’ll wait for a 253” I thought to myself. But the 253 comes down from Euston along the parallel road next to the tube. By the time I’d worked this out I’d been waiting for 15 minutes. I decided to run down to Camden High Street to the next stop. But my legs had gone.

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