Wednesday 5 August 2015

the dreaded runs

i'm sitting on the sofa in my running gear looking nervously at the clock. usually i would be heading home from an after-work run by now but tonight i decided to go check out the faversham running club. they don't meet until 7 (which seems awfully late) so i have another hour to sit here thinking of all the reasons why this probably is a bad idea.

i've been running sporadically for a few years now - i go for a few months, then slack off through injury or an over-abundance of wine and sheer laziness. in June i decided i had to HAD TO keep motivated or else i was going to have to diet. i have no intention of ever dieting so exercise it is. i signed up for the faversham 10k run in september and i have found since then that the terror of bailing in front of other runners not to mention the ten people at least i know who are also running the race has kept me surprisingly motivated. so much so that i am even planning on brining my trainers on holiday! unthinkable.

the running club is new-ish - it is run by our postman and he seems nice. he shouts encouraging things to me when he sees me running. well i assume they're encouraging - i can't actually hear him above my frantic gasps for air, but he's smiling in a way that suggests he has said something lovely and not, as must be tempting, comparing me to an asthmatic hippopotamus. one of my friends in the brass band is in it and loves it. another guy at work has been raving about how much he loves his running club and how it helps him and keeps him motivated as well.

my head was turned.

now that i'm sitting in lycra knowing i am going to have to talk to other people (whilst still wearing lycra!) i am not so sure. i am 41. plump-ish. i have never run more than 45 minutes and that was last week and i STILL can't believe it didn't kill me. i only run so i can keep drinking lots of wine and eating lots of cheese. ummmmm cheese.

oh well. how bad can it be? i never have to go back if i don't want to. maybe i'll learn something - god knows i could use advice on a pretty impressive scale. and i really really don't want to diet. n is making chicken schnitzel for dinner as well so there is always that to look forward to. i shall hoist my sails and gird my loins and with the happy thought of schnitzel, face my enemies! or, you know, go jogging.

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