Chariots of Fire

After work the other day, I decided to get off the train a few stops early and walk through wood green to get home.  Now wood green is great for shopping, but not exactly a haven of suburban tranquility.  So as I passed the bags of rubbish, and graffiti'd grey metal shutters things looked a bit drab.  Then I saw something quite special.
In fact a few somethings, covered in swathes of excess blue, black and brown material, with trainers bobbing up and down underneath the folds.   A muslem girls running club.
There they were, gliding past the people waiting at bus stops, seven or eight youngish women bounding (some hobbling) down the high street in full hijab and suitably modest clothing, puffing a way, some chatting to each other breathlessly.
It made me smile.  Good on you, I thought.  Why let a little thing like religious observance get in your way.

So then I looked it up. I'd heard about a muslem women's football tournament in Iran.  Something promoted in this country by the muslem   women's sports foundation.  Set up in Harrow in 2001, the organisation aims to get more muslim women involved in sport 'in a more religiously appropriate way.'   I can't say I'd like to be running around in a hijab and long sleeves but if that's your faith, it must be great to be able to run around playing sports.   Here's the background  women's muslem sport foundation  although the Times paints it perhaps more equivocally women's football in the times.

Of course it's not only islam that's into the idea that sport is a good thing, for women.  In Israel, amongst what they call the Haredim (ultra orthodox) they go to gyms instead, torah with treadmills  We hear quotes from mothers of 10 saying that the gym is the only time they get to themselves.  I know some people who'd continue to pour water on this, saying that it represents the subjugation of women.  It does, for some.  But I have also spoken to strong, assertive and articulate women who are either religious jews or muslems who for their own reasons and faith choose to live the life they do.  Freely.  So this, for me looks like a step in the direction of religious liberation.    A friend of mine even saw a whole family of ultra orthodox doing their thing at the running track in regents park.  There they were flying over the hurdles complete with payos (side curls), tzitit (ritual fringes) and sheitels (wigs for the married women).   We laughed at the time, but we also thought it was courageous and quite special.
 
Gives a new meaning to the words chariots of fire.