Can you complete a 10k road race without training? Only if you bring your bus fare.


TANYA SOUTER  – lifestyle advice with a local flavour.

Oh.  My.  Days!  Yous are lucky to be reading this, efter fit I pit mysel’ through yesterday it’s a wonder I’ve the energy to lift a pen.  Een o’ my pals, Chantelle (you ken Chantelle, bides in Westhill. She’s got sticky oot lugs and a slight squint. Does Anne Summers perties ‘cause she’s saving up for a boob job), somehow she talked me into signing me up for yon Baker Hughes 10K.  I think I was lulled into a false sense of security by the word ‘Baker’. Imagine my disappointment fan I gets to the starting line to find not a buttery, pie or yumyum has been laid on for us. It’s just me, Chantelle and a great load of wiry folk in trainers with grim looks of determination on their faces.

Before I tell you ony mair aboot my life changing experience, I hiv 3 facts tae clarify aboot a 10k “fun run” at the beach

1)    It’s nae fun.

2)    Aiberdeen beach is nae like the ither beaches I’ve been to, in Magaluf and Aiya Napa. It’s got sand an’ watter, right enough, but the wind is Baltic and the sea is even cauler. You’d get the same effect by pitting up yer deckchair in Farmfoods.

3)    The ‘K’ in ‘10 K ‘ stands for kilometres!  That’s ten thoosand metres!  Further than I’ve walked in my hale life!  Pit thegither!

Chantelle says to me “it’ll do you good Tanya!”  Fit a con! I’ve lost een o’ ma toenails and my feet hiv swollen up like a pair of coo’s udders! Honestly, they look like someone’s blawn up a couple of pink Marigolds. If I hidnae hopped on a Number 2 bus fan we got tae King Street I think I’d still be oot there!

Aboot half wye roon, efter I’d nipped onto the golf course for a fag, een o’ the stewards telt me I shouldnae be taking part in a 10k if I wisnae properly prepared.  I says “Prepared? I’ve brought twa lighters in case een of them runs oot and if I’m still going at lunchtime there’s a poke o’ chips in my bum-bag.”  Chick!  I telt him I’d been trainin’ for days!  I even went on the treadmill at the gym.  I didnae turn it on, like. It’s hard enough walking in platform stilettos, let alone running!

Fan I crossed the line, just ahind an 80 year auld mannie fa wis running the hale thing backwards for prostate care, Chantelle cries “Mak sure ye do yer warm doon stretches Tanya!”  So I says, “Eh – I da think so! Warm doon?  I’m plottin’ as it is, I’m nae doing mair exercise!  Me, my nose and my mascara hiv all run quite enough, thank you!”

Needless to say, efterwards Chantelle didna waste ony time taking the mickey oot of my time.  But the fact is I’d hiv been much quicker than 3 ‘oors if there hidna been such a lang queue in the Broadhill Bar.

Stay healthy!


‘CAVA’ KENNY CORDINER – the football pundit who kicks back!

What a week it has been for Scottish football managers!  Fergie, Big Alex McLeish and even my nameplate, Kenny Dalglish have all had what you can only describe as “a total sickener” in the past few days.

“King” Kenny got his jotters from Liverpool last week.  There is only one word that can describe my response to that news: flabby-gusted. Kenny was as Liver puddley as the Beatles, Jimmy Tarbuck, Brookside and Gerry and the Pacemakers put together.  In fact, I am willing to bet that if you cut him, he would bleed red. He even won a trophy, which is more than Fergie managed this season.  But I will always remember Kenny for his post match interviews – what a way with words!

I was less surprised to see Big Eck get the dunt from Aston Villa.  I have something of an infinity for them, because I actually played for their North-East sister club, Altens Villa.  Big Eck is one of many of the Gothenburg greats who have felt the pressure managing a really big club.  He is following in the footstools of Mark McGhee at Wolves, Gordon Strachan at Celtic and Doug Rougvie at Huntly. Maybe making the switch from player to gaffer is not as easy as it looks. I can’t think of anyone associated with that Aberdeen side who’s ever managed it.

I felt dead sorrow for Fergie when Manchester City scored that late goal what won them the league.  You could tell he was stressed – The commentators said he was masticating furiously. I don’t know about that, but he was fairly going at his chuddie.  Having your local rivals pip you to the punch must really rub sand in the wound, too.  It reminds me of when I lost a massive derby match earlier in my career.  Maud FC beat my old club, Longside, in the Ugie Valley Reserves Shield by a narrow 5-1 margin.  I’m sure Fergie will bounce back next season though.  We certainly did – next time we were ready for them, and we only lost 4-1.