Colo[u]r me happy

Three years ago, List 34 was created. One year ago, I ticked “Participate in Colour Run” off the list but didn’t get a chance to write about it, I was just too damn busy with a minor life event. Fortunately, I enjoyed the run so much that I did it again yesterday so here’s the de-brief; a mere 8760 hours late…

The Color Run, with it’s dodgy American spelling, claims to be the “happiest 5k on the planet”. Until someone devises a run that incorporates cake eating, then I’m going to let the Color Run hold that title; it is an enjoyable and entertaining fun run. Everyone is smiling, there are participants of all ages and it has a great atmosphere. That said, on both occasions that I’ve run, it’s been a dry and relatively warm day. If it had been blowing a hoolie and chucking it down with rain I suspect that the experience would have been significantly less enjoyable and I may well have unexpectedly taken ill and been unable to participate.

At the beginning of the course is a hill. Last year, I was considerably fitter than I am this year. I had been running with a personal trainer on a regular basis and so I ran the whole 5k without hesitation. Last year, myself and a friend smugly whizzed past everyone who was walking up the hill, whilst yelling ‘eat my dust, suckers’*. This year, when two of my friends said that they would be walking the course, I didn’t argue and happily meandered up the hill whilst runners sped past me yelling ‘eat my dust, suckers’**.

*not actually out loud, just in my head

**not actually out loud, just in their heads

The colour stations are dotted throughout the course and involve volunteers, with slightly evil glints in their eyes, throwing coloured powder in your direction as you pass. However, I would recommend trying not to breathe too much as you run through the brightly coloured dust as it’s not the most fun breathing experience you’ll ever have. Inhaling the powder is a little unpleasant, but you might get an exciting bright purple bogie when you blow your nose later in the day, so it’s not all bad.

This year there was the addition of a foam station, a much more family friendly version of the 1990’s style nightclub foam party, without dance music or some creepy dude trying to surreptitiously touch you up through the foam. I should point out that at no point during my misspent youth did I actually go to a foam party.  I did once go to a custard pie throwing party which had similar principles but after a while everyone started to smell of sour milk and look a bit jaundiced so it didn’t catch on as a pastime.

The foam provides a lovely damp layer enabling the coloured powder to stick to you so I feel it was a positive addition to the course. You want to finish looking mucky and colourful otherwise just how happy can you possibly be?

Bring on Color Run 2018! (Weather conditions permitting).

Color Run – 2016:

Color Run – 2017

Autumn admiration

IMG_8278Every year, I’m surprised when summer ends. No need to keep room in the freezer for more Soleros. Time to put my flip flops into ‘summery stuff’ storage. I must gauge correctly when the winter duvet should be unveiled and hope it’s not at the same time as an Indian summer shimmying on down. Yes, Autumn is upon us and that gives me an excuse to go all listy on you and share my favourite things about the season of soup, scarves and sparklers.


My legs are not elegant or dainty, they are not long enough for regular length trousers or pretty enough for flippy summer skirts. If I had to describe them in one word, that word would be sausagesque. Squirt a bit of mustard on them and stick them in a bun and Mr Richmond and Mr Wall would be admiring their meatiness. I spend the majority of summer trying to keep them out of the public eye for fear that Mr Punch might arrive to save them from a crocodile. Then the colder days draw in and my squashy, stubby little legs can be encased in thick black tights. Beautifully concealed within a cloak of darkness. Oh wonderous lycra camoflage, how I love you so.

Lights on at dusk

The ending of summer seems to sneak up surreptitiously. You get home from work, used to light evenings and realise it’s actually getting dark. That’s when it happens; you put the light on without thinking and I get to see inside your home. I am Mrs Nosey Parker of Busybodyville when it comes to soft furnishing. My inner interior designer is clapping her hands and jumping up and down with glee. Does the smartly dressed man who lives across the road have a lounge worthy of appearing in Homes and Gardens or is it a sixty minute makeover gone wrong? Will I spot a cushion to die for and spend the entire winter googling variations of the phrase “Where can I buy a purpley bluey greyish coloured cushion with a funky pattern and a bit of fur” in the desperate hope that I can steal the style of a random stranger who lives near to the supermarket that I visit on the way home from work? Who knows what those unexpected lounge lights will bring.


Oh tempting, tasty, canary yellow delight. You are a golden shining halo of joy, exponentially enhancing any pudding eating experience and for this, I am truly grateful.

Strictly Come Dancing

Handsome men, gorgeous women, sequins, smiles, live music, dancing, celebrities that in the first instance you’ve never heard of but by week three you know the names of their children, their favourite food and you’re trying to find out where to get ‘Team *insert celebrity name*’ t-shirts printed. Every October, as soon as I hear the theme music “da da da da dee da da, da da da da daaaaah” I become sofa judge: dance guru. I sit in front of the telly yelling “No, no, no heel leads!” and “Excellent projections” and “Ooh, Rumba, that’s a tough dance for the male celebrity”.

Autumn. Just fab-u-lous, daaaaaaarling.