Yesterday, for the first time, I had the rare privilege on being coughed on by a passing runner. I could not believe it actually happened. We always habitually allow runners plenty of room, virus or no virus. This is to prevent crashing or sudden stumbling and injury to the athlete or ourselves. The right to run is a given; even in lockdown it was encouraged by the government in the interests of fitness and mental health. I felt the French had a much better handle on it, restricting runners to off peak times, but nevertheless exercise was never time restricted here. Heaven forfend that a jogger should be told to wear a mask!

This particular young runner had chosen to exercise on a narrow footpath beside a main road at precisely the same time local schoolchildren were emerging and being met by busy mums and grandmas, some with prams, Quite a few pensioners were out shopping before the evening rush hour. You might question the wisdom of that decision, but he obviously thought it was a good time to practise his favourite hobby. Naturally the path was full of people, an elderly person on a mobility scooter pulled aside to give him more clearance. I stepped aside into an open gateway to allow a group of children to go past with their mum, who was pushing a large pram. They were in quite a hurry so it seemed sensible and polite.

The runner literally turned towards us all in passing and coughed loudly and deliberately just once. It was a loose, clearing the throat type of cough. Mercifully he did not spit but, sadly, I could not resist shouting after him:

“Wrong sort of cough, mate.”

Now I have almost certainly had the virus and am still experiencing some post-viral effects months later. Logic dictates that I am probably immune to COVID-19 but obviously I am not immune to being triggered by rudeness or ignorance. I will work on it. I can only work on my own mistakes, but I do find myself questioning why people, particularly young men it seems, are becoming so inconsiderate of others.