Posing burns off the pasta

Part Two of "Thursday league".

Keeping fit is big business

There are so many gyms and sport centres around Rome, even with membership being well over-priced, people are jogging over each other to get in. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of these places because we seem to be trying out as many different calcietto (five a side football) centres as possible, it’s gives us a sense of playing away.

Once you pay your membership for the gym of your choice, you can also then pay for a personal trainer and/or join a group, training together such as on exercise bikes. This sport of “Spinning” is usually done to bleeding-eardrum volume levels of dire music. Very Dire Straits music in fact, and an over-excited, over-tanned and over-hyped body beautiful screaming at you. Or, you can opt for the water aerobics in the outdoor pools during summer if want to keep your backside hidden but still look extremely silly even without Dire Straits.

Headphones, iPods, mobile phones and hair gel

Those that prefer the less expensive outdoors go running in the parks. There’s a big one close to me, Villa Doria Pamphilj. I’ve spent many a weekend afternoon wandering around and lying down in the sun next to the sign that says "keep off the grass" idly watching the parrots flirting between the palms above me. Everyone, and I mean everyone that is running, is doing it mainly to get noticed but at least this kind of posing burns off the pasta too. Being Italian they seem to treat it in the same way as they would if it was the Sunday-afternoon-post-lunch-stroll. They manage to chat the whole time they are running which I find most impressive. Fashionable state-of-the-art sports wear is on display along with radio headphones, iPods, mobile phones and hair gel. After a while you get to notice familiar sweaty faces and lycra suits running past for the twentieth time, some of them at a speed I could only dream of, others shuffling along just short of walking speed due to their youthful age of 97. On each of my visits I decide to come jogging here myself to show them all how it should be done. Maybe once or twice a week in the summer months before work when its cooler, but that means getting up extremely early which is far too painful... one day though, one day.

For me outdoor summer sports at school meant boring tedious cricket. And just as with winter sports, I was relegated to the less exiting spots on the field after being picked last. In this case to the outer fielding positions to where the ground was too hard to amuse myself making mud pies, as I did as a football defender. The ball never got out there anyway due to the fact the bonehead batsmen were crap. Plus the bowlers were only interested in seeing how much damage they could inflict with wild legal lobbing of a leather clad missile. Athletics, on the other hand, were never popular with the lard-arsed hard-men because they had lard-arses, and a distinct lack of stamina. Now maybe all that running away from bullies had done me some good over the years because I actually did well in these games, especially the longer distances of 400, 800 and 1500 m. It was always a great day passing the red-faced sweaty lardies who fell by the wayside even before the end of the first lap. In fact those of us who threw mud during the winter took all the glory in the summer... sweet revenge indeed.

One day comes

It’s a Sunday evening. I’d done my warm up, stretched all my muscles and strapped up my knee, it was 7.30 pm but the temperature was in the 30’s, everyone else was running, cycling or playing football, so it was all okay. I set off after deciding that once around half of the park would be enough to start with.

I can’t help but notice that this place is always packed out with hundreds of people of every age involved in numerous activities, and that back home the parks seemed only to be used as dog exercise grounds, for picking the daffodils on mothers day or for drinking cider out of brown plastic bottles.

My fellow joggers didn’t seem to understand that taking short-cuts kind of defeats the object, however the routes they take are better pose roads. All the tracks are either sun-baked mud, well trodden and scarred with the treads of cycles and push-chairs, leftovers from the last time it rained, or sun baked dust. The park’s hilly landscape is fairly wooded so offers plenty of shade, all paths seem to lead at some point to the central focus of the 17th century ornate gardens and villa. Hence the “keep off the grass” signs. I didn’t bring a water bottle as there are numerous drinking fountains on route, which I find most thoughtful.

I must have been going for about 40 minutes, beads appearing on my forehead, mouth drying up and lungs feeling the heat and dust as they heave in the air. I checked my watch it said 7 minutes. I wanted to stop but then everyone would notice that I’m crap. So I pressed on in the hope that I would find my true rhythm and a less crowded area where nobody could see me giving up. I plodded on still further but the heat of the sun and the steady incline that I’d just conquered was too much so I paused for breath, just after being passed by a sprightly 97 year old. As I was trying hard not to be sick, a fitness-freak couple approached from the opposite direction, she being about one fifth of her baboon boyfriend’s body weight, they looked at me, shared a remark and sniggered as they went past. I turned and shouted “Fuck you, at least I don’t look like a fridge and run like a duck!” But they didn’t hear me.

Villa Doria Pamphilj

The park with it's picturesque paths, pine woods, fountains, small lakes and gardens, is divided into two main parts connected only by a footbridge. It was first created between 1644 and 1652 for Prince Camillo Pamphilj, the nephew of Pope Innocent X and now surrounds Villa Doria Pamphilj. It is the largest park in Rome at about eighteen square kilometres. Even sticking to one half of the overall circumference it now seemed like once around the world, and since I didn't have eighty days I took a short cut or three. Not for the pose value at all, but more out of the need to search for the medicinal qualities of one of the many drinking fountains hidden amongst it's seemingly endless terrain.

Close to the center of the park is the Villa itself with ornate gardens fenced off from the curious plebs, and the occasional missed kicked football. In one corner is a flight of stone steps, well worn with time, the same ones that I'd often watched people running up on previous visits. They all attack them with their headphones apparently blaring the “Best of Rocky” themed soundtracks. Suddenly, this didn’t look like a short cut at all. At least it was nothing like the days of my youth when my so-called mates laced my 21st birthday drinks and chased me up the infamous “108 Steps”. Stripping me of everything, leaving me half a mile from home completely naked, and with no money for a taxi. Even Rocky would’ve struggled with that one.

My tongue was hanging out for refreshment. I was willing a water fountain to appear out of the ground two paces in front of me. Then I spotted one not too far off, sweet cool bubbling water splashing out of the tap, I was almost there and would’ve been salivating too if I hadn’t been so dehydrated.

From his lazy day family picnic, an old chap sat up and stretched, and brushing sleep out of his eyes. He saw me padding down the dusty path tripping over my tongue in desperation to reach the oasis, his oasis. So he decided to make a quick dash to get there just before me and spent two days wetting his hands, splashing his face and not drinking. Me thinks he probably enjoyed picking his team for school football too in his years as captain.

Books I wish I'd had when I was at school:
Bullies, Bigmouths and So-called Friends
Most books about bullying tell children how to act without addressing how they feel. But the usual advice to 'ignore it' or 'say something smart' is doomed to fail, as you can't act brave and confident if you feel stressed and helpless inside.
Stick Up for Yourself: Every Kid's Guide to Personal Power and Self-Esteem
Have you ever been picked on at school, bossed around, blamed for things you didn't do, or treated unfairly? Do you sometimes feel frustrated, angry, powerless, and scared? Do wish you could stick up for yourself, but you don't know how? This book can help. In simple words and real-life examples, it shows you how to stick up for yourself with other kids (including bullies and teasers), big sisters and brothers, even parents and teachers. It tells you things you can say without putting people down, and things you can do without getting into trouble. You'll feel better about yourself, stronger inside, and more in charge of your life.