As many of you may know from Twitter, or possibly from hearing my screams as I squeeze into budget trainers, I have taken on a new challenge. Running. Now, I am fully aware that this may be my first and last post about running as, from past experience, the art of running has failed to grip me. And yes, I shall call it an art because, let's face it and be frank, it is bloody hard.
At this point in my post I feel a wee declaration maybe necessary. I am not running to loose weight, you will not hear me moaning and groaning about how many calories I have burnt per half mile. It is a part of what I would like to call: the sodding guilt trip that is New Year. I have made many a'resolution and this year I aim to keep at least two. At least.
My resolutions involve:
a) Be nicer.
b) Be better.
c) Be better at being nicer.
d) GET FIT.
With three out of four being well, somewhat high in the sky, I am focusing the predominance of my attention on Resolution D.
So, with the aim of kicking myself up the derriere, I shall write to you my experiences. Starting today, Thursday the tenth of January, otherwise known as the day I wore a pair of non-fashion related trainers for the first time in my 22 years on the planet we call home. It was a big day, public holidays should be announced, plaques should be engraved and a brass Fila statue should be erected. Erected, whey.
And how did it go you may ask...Well, not as badly as first expected. Yes, I only ran for half an hour, and yes, a pick n' mix of walking, running and hobbling was involved. But, overall I believe that the first step in my running adventure has been conquered. Watch out Forest, I'm a' comin'. I started out slow, avoiding all possible up hill climbs. I have to admit, that besides the wardrobe (which may I say is a revolution, huh, humm, lycra), my favourite part of the whole running experience was doing the mid-run check for cars whilst sprinting across t-junctions and over mini roundabouts. This is a point, and I think seasoned runners would agree, when your ponytail is mid-flight and your arms are outstretched, that you would be forgiven for thinking that you were Kate Hudson filming the running sequence from My Best Friends Girls. That, I liked. The burning pain current taking up residence in my calves, not so much. But, pain is the name of the game, it just means it's working...RIGHT?
I shall keep you updated. In the mean time I shall be spending money I do not have on lycra, and planting chocolate based snacks at various points en route, just in case those trainers guilt trip into taking them out me once again.
xx
Erected, whey.
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