And this isn’t like how I imagined it to be, at all. They are gone, but I imagined my legs running quickly, covered in Lycra – a steady rhythm, mimicking my heartbeat, possibly, and a glass full of freshly squeezed orange juice drunk beforehand quickly, greedily. I imagined the sun on my back and possibly on my face and my shoulders. It was never my intention to execute this deed under the cover of darkness in the dead of the night, when everyone should be sleeping, and yet I am conscious that there will always be somebody awake in a different part of the world. I could always run later when the light comes up, I do not have long to wait because even though it is the end of the summer, the light may still come quickly and it will be a guilty bright light like what you get on your way to an early house, and you are loaded with regret that you have over-indulged in the hours leading up to this. But it seems definite now that my planned run is out of the question, heading up to the Obelisk on Killiney Hill and giving myself that special moment to admire the sweep of Killiney Bay, its magnitude, and to decipher the glint of light that marks the tunnel from Bray Head to Greystones. And I am contemplating many things here tonight, as I do my stretches, but I will not be contemplating the proximity of Dalkey Island and berating myself for never having set foot on it. Oh the waste.

And the music is thumping and I suppose this is my tribute to Jenny and to Mikey and to Joey and to Maeve and I go into the kitchen for water or possibly beer and I notice my Lycra leggings hanging on a kitchen chair by the radiator and they are inside out and the label is exposed, The Great Outdoors. I shake as I open my jeans and I push them down my legs. I can see my reflection in the kitchen window as I stand there. I grab my Lycra leggings from the chair and I put them on and it isn’t easy because I am using too much haste and it is not helping in the speed department. Finally I get them on, fully, and I think that I could still make a run but it will be a different one. I fill a water bottle, it is a recent purchase, one of those bottles, its interior comprised of metal enabling me to keep my water at a satisfactory cool temperature. Only yesterday I used it and the way the water slid down my throat was something wonderful and it caused me a degree of pleasure and there is significant pleasure to be gained in the smallest of things.