The Hashers

Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby Utopia Twanky Christian Spot Head Boy Karen Ian Dipstick Jo Caboose SlipperyNipple HitchHiker Cap’n Haystax Ms. Whiplash Salome Spex Bob Linda(not Liz) Lou Dumper Septic Hashgate ShutupWally Iceman Simon Lesley SlowSucker Zebedee Florence TT2 James Ladybird Centaur Dwight Honeymonster Sue5 C5 HeyBabe ShaginaJag Hamlet Bomber Tom Posh Cerberus Premature 2Bob Puddleduck Gwen Potty Nutcracker Miranda TinOpener Baldrick HarryPotter Glittertits PissQuick Muff Mrs Muff Lonely Handful Uplift Canoeist Ben Butterfly Dribbler Itsyor Fiddler Bev Urine and dog Gnarler John Krystyna

The BH³ ‘Fun’ Run

For those of you reading this who do not know what the ‘Fun’ run is, let me explain. This particular gobbet of ‘fun’ consists of a roughly 9 kilometre route with no checks or falses that everyone has to run as fast as their spotty, knobbly, chubby, or in the case of Jo, nicely suntanned, legs will carry them. Our master of ceremonies and trail layer for the night, the inestimable Motox, assigns to each runner a handicap. Which means that the slowest set off first with various other groups of people going at two minute intervals; the Paula Radcliffes (i.e. Centaur, Dwight and Lesley) setting off about 30 minutes after the first group. The start is rather like the main runway at Heathrow where a series of large-bodied 747s and Hercules transporters struggle to get airborne, chugging out fumes and racket. Followed by slightly sleeker 757s eagerly seeking the air. Then some racy F111s and Migs. And finally a small cloud of mosquitos, fizzing and buzzing to be off. There is, of course, the odd knackered old Lancaster (Bomber had done his ankle in) and a floating blimp (Mr. Blobby had done his Achilles’ in).

This year’s meeting was held at Dumper and Septic’s very fine country retreat and they were very disappointed not to be able to run in the race due to catering requirements… It was meant to be a tic free night but ShutupWally appeared. We were to start a little way up the lane where Motox dispensed race numbers and safety pins with all the panache and bonhomie of a man who knew he would not have to run the race. And why not? He thoroughly deserved a rest. He had adjusted the usual Mortimer-based trail to take in most of its usual route and instead of ending with that nasty, uphill cross-country bit, we were to start with it. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me describe the start. A huge mass of ‘athletes’ bounced, stretched or lay dissolutely around. The blood transfusion bunch fizzed with energy in one corner, having been accidentally transfused with the contents of a Capstan Full Strength chain smoker. The EPO group twitched and twittered uncontrollably, making vague bicycling motions. The steroid bunch bulged around, picking their spots irritably. And 2Bob stood idly by, dragging deeply on an ancient cigarillo and beaming the smile of ‘the man who wasn’t going to run’.

One of the problems with writing the Gobsheet about the Fun Run is that it’s just an eyeballs-out race where you don’t see that many people. So I will have to give you a very personal view of the thing. My group consisted of Zebedee, SlowSucker, Jo, Premature, Fiddler and myself. We set off up the hill with a chatty air of expectancy which reduced to a gasp as we hit the first hill. It has to be noted that Zebedee took a bit of a short-cut here (not that it made much difference). From behind Premature uttered a weak “Cor! It’s too hot for me.” And sped by three of us like an express train. We felt the slam of the air pressure as he forged past with a double-honk. Jo and I ran alternately in front of or behind each other past Mortimer common and into the woods where we saw Miranda and Karen enjoying their walk and caught up with the melting Iceman just as Motox and Honeymonster appeared in the car on the road and took our heartfelt salutes. Ms. Whiplash and HitchHiker came and went. Then Twanky and Christian and many others on the long, pebbly path. Jo had got past a couple of times around here but I found that leaping through the odd patch of stinging nettles and splashing through muddy puddles regained the lead – albeit for a short time. Jo’s class eventually told and she swept gracefully past ne-er to be seen again. I remember going by Flash up one hill and Spot up another. And Cheating up some steepish steps. Handful appeared in front and ran along a tiny path through serried rhodedendrons. How she felt about an unknown bloke breathing hard on the back of her bare neck I don’t know. And what she felt when I gasped “Only me!” before nearly shoving her sideways as we cornered rather sharply remains to be seen. Mrs Blobby and Utopia trotted genteely through the damp forest just before ShutupWally provided a useful spur by trying to talk to me. Since I had no breath to reply politely I felt it best to ghost by just before the pond in the dip. I met Florence here too, just before Centaur slipped past us. He was barely breathing hard. He told me later he had been ‘taking it easy’ following a fall from his bike! After the pond there was a rather large uphill bit with loose stones underfoot and we all made hard going of it. Simon was at the top when he put on a bit of a spurt before kindly stepping to one side in the field of wavy grass. I then had no time to step aside before Lesley raced past effortlessly and disappeared. And this was where more than one person got caught out. The minds were not working at all well due to general dissipation and exhaustion and several people were thinking, “Omigod. We’ve got that rotten grassy hill and track to the farm to go yet. Cap’n; me engine’ll never take it!” What we hadn’t remembered was that we had already done the damn thing at the start and it was only when we saw the ‘Out’ and ‘In’ signs that we knew we had but a short downhill sprint to go. Still it made the excuse that we had been ‘holding back’ and explained the lower placing. The tarmac sprint was fast, easy and enjoyable and we were greeted at the finish by Motox, a smiling Mr Blobby recording the times and Honeymonster handing out position/raffle numbers and beer/food tickets. Curiously, my number was just before Mrs Blobby and Utopia. Well done girls! Another year’s Fun Run over. Thank God!

The Soirée

A very relaxed affair on the lawns and under the marquee on the Septic/Dumper estate. Nutcracker kindly dispensed the plentiful beer. Glittertits and Mr Blobby officiated at the barbeques. Apart from Septic’s superb food many other people had brought along delicious salads, pasta dishes and bowls of rice supplemented with various delights. Music played in the background and birds twittered in the fading light. It could not have been more perfect if it had tried. The marquee tables were laid with tablecloths in the centre of which was a rising spiral of nightlight candles surrounded by scattered little stars and a twist of ivy. Wonderful!

…and some out-of-context quotes