The day after tomorrow we’re meant to be doing our first proper challenge – running 5k round central Glasgow while dressed as Santa.
I am shitting it. 
On the one hand I know the Santa Dash (a charity event being held just now because it was cancelled last month due to snow and ice) is only a bit of family fun that is such a loose arrangement they don’t even time it.
But on the other…well I don’t want to make a complete cock of myself and I don’t want to be a mile behind Shaun either.
I’ve had a quick look at the route and it looks to me like at least the first 2 kilometres are up a very steep hill sometimes called St Vincent Street.
Anyone who witnessed what happened the last time we went up a steep hill will know it really is a spectacularly silly idea for us to be tackling this when we both remain so dangerously unfit.
Still. A promise is a promise is a promise.
I should admit I have a little bit of form for dressing up in a Santa outfit.
Three years ago when I dropped off the kids at nursery one morning the staff were all smirking. Anne-Marie nudged Heather, they whispered to each other, Anne Marie said ‘you ask him’ and Heather said ‘no, you ask him!’
Heather (with a total beamer): “What it was…was…we were wondering….ifyouwouldn’tmindbeingsanta.”
Me: Sorry?
Heather (deep breath): Would…. you…. be…Santa?
Now.
Immediately I said yes. I was tickled to be asked.
Of course it didn’t take me long to click why I had been marked out for such an ‘honour’.
It wasn’t the reindeer, the glasses, the white beard, or even my big sack that landed me the role.
It was my stomach.
My big, fat, stop-the-search-he’s-the-one Santa-like belly.
The nursery even had a suit and all the gubbins ready. Did I need any padding? Not a bit.
I’ve done it twice now, and I admit, I’ve taken huge enjoyment out of it, even trying my best to be nice to the wee tykes who are scared shitless by a stranger imploring them to come and sit on his knee. ( And the bottle which Santa gets to take away always warms the winter nights back up in Lappland too).
I wouldn’t mind doing it again this year if I’m allowed, only this time I’ll try to need a pillow to pad out the suit rather than follow the De Niro in Raging Bull method acting approach.
The first bit is harsh so, seriously, take it easy up there. Maybe even walk until you hit the top of the hill. The rest is a breeze
Good luck boys. x
I thought I’d never run 5 yards let alone 5ks,I am still a crap runner but I agree,take it easy to begin,so much of it is in the mind,concentrate on your breathing. and drink as much water as it is possible to.Am I posting too much?Probably.Do let me know if I am.Good luck!We’ll laugh at this one day soon when you’re both off doing a 10k of a morning before porridge and not breaking a sweat. X
Alternatively, arrive bang on start time with no warm up or stretching and carrying your santa suit in a Lidl poly. When the race begins only then should you start pulling on your suit while hopping on alternate legs as you struggle into the trousers, all the while picking up disapproving looks from the scarlet tide of fellow runners. When you are fully dressed, make up the lost ground by barrelling the next 200 yards along St Vincent Street. By then, your coupon will be as red as your suit and you’ll be sooking in oxygen through every orifice. Fortunately you will now be outside AllBarOne so you can duck inside and call it a day, first ordering a refreshing ice bucket to stick your head in to reduce the angry redness. Ahhhh!
You’re the Pope so pray!!!!