I started running at the beginning of 2001 to lose weight. The catalyst was my filterless father (who is as blunt and direct as his oldest son) picking me up from the airport on a trip back ‘home’ to Cape Town for the Christmas holidays. He’d probably not seen me in the flesh for about a year.
Instead of a friendly greeting, a scowl came over the Old Mann’s face as gave me a once over up-and-down scan and said, “You look like a rich, fat banker!”
Continue reading “Why I won’t wear the shirt from a race I have not run”


