Run!

There was a time when I was rubbish at running. Properly rubbish I mean. I took it up seriously - although I didn't realise that at the time - eighteen years ago when I chap I worked with said he was going to start running once a week.

I'd just moved jobs and I was used to playing squash every day but there was no opportunity at the new place. Feeling my fitness slip away and also judging that Neil was a bit on the tubby side, I volunteered to run with him, figuring no matter how lousy I was at running, he'd be worse.

On our first run that summer, I had to stop for a rest twice while Neil jogged on the spot. That was just two and a half miles.

By Christmas I was up to five miles and the following May I ran in a twelve mile race. I didn't come in quite in last place, which was the victory I was hoping for.

Since then there have been times when I haven't run for various reasons - working in London, snow, being too busy etc - but I always return to it. The fittest I've ever been was three years ago at the age of forty-four, which is really encouraging (and I'm striving to beat that, this year.)

It's not always easy to motivate myself to run, especially when I'm tired and just in from work as I was last night (Monday). But I got changed, put on my boots and set off. And the thing is, no matter how hard it is to get out and get running, I never, ever wish I hadn't gone afterwards.