I am in Dublin for the 30th anniversary of Philip Lynott’s death. It’s an annual show called The Vibe, run by his friend Smiley Bolger. It was great seeing so many old friends, ghosts from the past and lost lovers.
I love Phil’s music so much and it always followed me tru life, the highest and lows. (Thin Lizzy, that’s where you know the name from!)
Waking up in Dublin, however, I realise it was stupid not bringing my running gear. I was sure I’d be too tired to run. That we’d party all nite, chatting away and there would just not be any time. And, I am ashamed to admit it – would I confess to be a runner. Would I be able to stroll down the hotel corridors in my Kari Traa-tights and yellow neon vest? I mean. Really. If you don’t see the anxiety here, let me give you this reference: the Vibe is like a home coming party. A high school reunion. Some of us were really close friend some ten years ago. And ten years ago I wasn’t a runner = I am not a runner = I can not bring running gear to Dublin this weekend.
But waking up to 10C and sunshine I regret it. I don’t want to go shopping, I want to run towards Howth and discover my beloved Dublin the way I now see things. Next time. I will not let my fear of being laughed at stand in my way for the person I am. And, seriously, no-one have ever laughed at me… maybe questions my sanity – but not laughing.