In 2013, a welshman, a scotsman and a scouser started running together in the leafy Singapore suburbs. We entered a race, the rest was history!
Mount Sinai Striders were born as Singapore’s ‘anti club’. No rules, no membership, no structure, occasional track night, the odd Sunday run – a collective of like minded, frequently lazy, semi competitive, grumpy old (and a few not so old) men.
In 2015, founder member (the scotsman ) Shrug returned to the UK, but then 2 years later he was back. The original trifecta was intact once more.
Over the years that followed, we’ve added and lost ‘members’ in line with the transient nature of life in Singapore.
Jezza went to Honkers, Handsome Rob is back in Jersey, Tax Junior is in fackin Essex.
This time it’s a another big one. Eleete Pete is off. He’s had enough leh and he’s taking his shizzle off back to a colder tax haven, to hang with Charlie Hungerford.
The heritage of Eleete athlete Pete comes from another scouse legend, Bish. (00:55). This ‘fuck you, I’m goin’ up the front’ attitude sums up the man, the legend, my mate Pete.
And so Sundown 2018 10k was set at Pete’s last hurrah. One more shlep round Marina Bay. One more time swearing at himself running down the side of Gardens by the Bay East. One more striders selfie.
In striders style, none of us are fit, none of us has trained for this event. As if to highlight this total lack of club athletic prowess, there are about a million Pirates here, looking lean, mean and focussed. The striders are just grinners, not winners tonight – but we don’t give a fuck lah.
Sleep can wait and we’re on for one last lot of pre race bullshit before the off. One more round of ‘listen to your bodeeeee’, one more introduction of the fucking pacers.
We hate this shit, we love this shit, he’ll miss this shit.
Pete’s got his race night playlist locked and loaded. It varies from race to race, but the striders theme tune is always there.
This time though, we’re all REALLY out of shape. It’s hot, the organisers have given us an extra 900m for free and by the time we all round the final bend next to the Singapore Flyer we’re all knackered.
I’d like to tell you how we drank Corona’s til dawn to toast our mate, but that’s not how this story ended. We’re all old farts now, so it was a damp squib and an MRT ride home.
There’s still a few weeks left before the Grand Depart so there’s plenty of time for more Corona. But there won’t be any more Singapore 10k’s for eleete Pete – this is the last of around 25. He’s got the medals, the tee shirts and we’ve all got the memories.
One thing I can say about Pete and running is, he leaves it all out there. There’s no jogging and smiliing for the camera with Eleete Pete…. I like to think it’s ‘focus’ rather that ‘fuck off and leave me alone’, but judge for yourself with a few of the very best….
It’s been emotional, as Vinny Jones would say. I’ve shared the highs, lows, and illogical, incompetent, insane craziness of the Singapore running scene with Pete for 5 years. I’ll miss the old fucker, I really will.