I started running way back in May. I think I may even have mentioned it on here. It all tapered off over the summer, perhaps unsurprisingly. I hadn’t been doing it for long enough to be much good at it, or to be comfortable doing it, and the summer holidays just seemed to provide one excuse after another not to go out.
September arrived, and with it a renewed desire to run. Not just for weight loss, but also for strength, for the ability to heal quickly when I finally have my cholecystectomy (gall bladder removal, posh name, showing off!), and for the sheer joy that I hear running brings to people.
I haven’t discovered the sheer joy yet, and the cholecystectomy which was booked for half term got cancelled. However, I am much stronger. I can feel it in my legs when I walk (or indeed run) up stairs and in my lungs when I do anything above a gentle stroll. I can also run for 40 minutes (albeit slowly) and tonight ran 5k faster than I’ve ever done in my life. I also ran my fastest mile since I don’t know when.
It hasn’t been easy. I’ve been out running every other day (my first fail being this weekend when I just couldn’t face running after ice skating and then the next day we had a glass of wine with lunch and it was all over really), no matter how tired I was or how horrid the weather (and it’s only going to get worse, lets face it!). It has made pretty much every bit of me (internal and external) hurt at one point or another, but I’ve stuck with it and it is finally getting better. I’ve even reached a point where I can run for about a mile and a half and then fall into some sort of comfort zone where it feels like I could continue for miles. That invariably lasts for less than half a mile, but still…
I know pride comes before a fall, so look out for a picture of me in a plaster cast very soon because I’m really quite proud of myself right now.