Cross Country
I was reminded of this by Mrs Liveinabin's story yesterday. My school was also on the outskirts of town, so when we did cross country running round the back roads, our teacher used to come along in his car after us to make sure no-one had died en route, or whatever.

However, I'd sussed this and used it to my advantage, as had, on occasion, a couple of mates. We'd run up the first bit of road, round the corner by the trees and then sit on the first convenient wall. When we heard the tell-tale sounds of an engine, we'd get up, and start lumbering along. The teacher would come along and usually offer us a lift, as games was last lesson of the day and we had buses to catch.

I remember one day I was skiving in this way on my own, when he picked me up, and took me to the far side of the playing fields, then stopped. "OK, if you get out here and run back to the school, nobody will know I gave you a lift", he said, trying to preserve my self respect and dignity with my classmates.

I weighed up the options. WTF, everyone knew I was a lazy fat bugger. And it was cold and wet outside.

"No, it's OK sir. Just keep going please and take me back to the school. I'm knackered."

So he did. I turned up just as the stragglers who had slogged their way round the whole course were getting back. Yes, I probably got a bit of ribbing, but I cared not a jot, as it saved me a lot of exertion.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 20 Nov 2009, 10:56, Reply)