What is the point of running when it's raining or about to? In what way are we enriched by having damp knickers and steamed-up glasses and socks that you can only remove with a tin opener? And if the rain is falling, or about to, in Farnham, what better to do than go shopping in that rich and colourful no man's land between Slough and Farnham South?
You want a haircut (for blokes) for £6? You've a choice of at least 5 Polish barbers – try Marion's where the older (English) cutter will treat you to an endless stream of dubious jokes as he trims your eyebrows. Sausages? The Polish store just before you get to Marion's is a sausage museum: there's long ones, fat ones, curly ones, Zeppelin-sized ones, banana-shaped ones. Be patient because each of the half mile long queue of Polish shoppers takes half an hour to select their dustbin-sized quantities.
Italian Ice Cream parlour? You bet: all the colours (and flavour) of a rainbow. If the goods lack taste, nip into Lidl's next door – go on, you know that Every Lidl Counts. Hair brush for the dog for a quid? Alex of the West Highland Terrier (as against other Alexes that we don't have in the Hash), could have a field day, buying six and selling five at a decent margin to Helen, Kerry, Louise, Jane and Sandra.
Want your nails done, ladies? A new sari? A tan? Or even a flutter on the horses – cash only to avoid nosey husbands tracing the transaction – it's all there.
And if you're fed up with (NOT 'of') soggy or insufficient chips, treat yourself to a great Indian at the Karachi (could be Karahi) – heaving with families and businessmen of all shades of brown, contrasted to this one white face in the whole place. At least three waiters will serve you, including one who is brilliantly courteous, sporting a Hackett sports shirt with a Union Jack that sets off his lemon coloured turban. While you crunch your way through all the free papadams you can manage, you can watch the three chefs attempting to burn down the place with their flaring frying pans.
Those of you who have proof positive of my moderate appetite would have been on their mobiles to the nearest A&E on seeing me calling time out on my scoff when barely half-way through, (though Judy was very grateful to have the other (cooled) half on her return home).
Put out by the absence of a run report which tells you where you've just been? You know where you've just been – you were there. Why not benefit from learning about what an ignored part of Slough has to offer on a rainy Tuesday night? See you at the Karachi some time.