I have a nasty habit to confess. I spit when I’m running. It’s not a pretty habit, but I run in remote, wild, Welsh woodland, so it doesn’t seem to count. I probably wouldn’t do it in the road, though. After all, it’s Not a Nice Thing to Do. I hate seeing kids gob in the street (and footballers, come to think of it – ewww!) so I wouldn’t feel right doing it myself.
But on the river? Never. However much my lungs are complaining, I can’t bring myself to spit in the water. There’s something about seeing the bubbly globule floating away on the otherwise flawless, glassy surface that stops me, however great the urge to clear my throat.
It’s a delicate subject that I’ve not brought up with anyone before now and I hope I’ve not disgusted you. So come on, ladies and gents. Confession time. Do you spit or swallow? I think we ought to be told.
