Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

Legs dilemma induced by roasting weather #themajorseries

I am doing the Major tomorrow and am very excited. It’s a 10ish k obstacle race that I did two years ago and declared it the most fun you can have.

Then I couldn’t go last year as I had to stand in the near zero temperatures to watch my son be the Queen’s Consort at the Village fair while he and the royal party were mercilessly lashed by the horizontal and quite impressive June rain.

But I am going this year.

I am on a team, raising money for the Princess Royal Maternity Baby Fund as a thank you to them for the care given to twins born into our BMF Glasgow community at 26 weeks. They had 99 days of care and have recently had their first birthday and are doing really well. Read Norma’s story here. And a recent news story here. 

Meanwhile, the weather this June is not the weather we had last June. It is roasting. Hot, hot, hot. And this then gives us a leg crisis.

I wore shorts the last time, which were great in many respects.

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It was afterwards, though, as I lay on the grass mentally zoning out that I realized that every part of my exposed flesh was smarting and tingling with a combination of stings, scrapes, jags and an overall sensation of something akin to burning.

Perhaps leggings are the way forward, then – or so I thought in a note-to-self after that event. Full flesh coverage to avoid accidental lacerations and skint knees.

But it’s so hot.

A lot of people are opting for the ¾ length look. Good for the knees, certainly. But eh, how’s the muscle definition going to look in the pics, eh? Isn’t there a danger of dodgy tan lines? I suppose there is a sock-tan possibility with shorts too…

And there’s a river to run through so we’ll get a cool down, so maybe longs would be fine? But then if I get overheated I’ll totally regret the longs. But if I need to crawl on my knees, which I will, I’ll regret the shorts.

I suppose, it may not be sufficiently muddy to crawl pain-free.

Hmm.

The thought of ¾ length kind of depresses me. So meh. So half hearted. So lukewarm.

I want to wear shorts, but I don’t want grated knees.

Can’t decide.

Maybe I’ll wear the shorts and grate my knees and resolve not to regret it.

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