Running Man

I don't run. Never really have done. I always loved sport at school, but I was a skinny unfit soul who would walk the cross country runs and look forward to getting to play basketball when my height would be a natural advantage.

I'd always cycled, but it's only in the last ten years I started doing it regularly and adding distance and started feeling actually fit. I'm still slow, but bloody mindedness can take you a long way.

And so, returning from our last holiday, having ridden most of the Bealach Mor sportive before a mechanical forced me out, while the body felt great, I decided I wanted more fitness. And that long harboured thought of doing a triathlon came to prominence. Which means running.

I've done a couple of half marathons, but painfully and the majority of the distance actually walked. Which meant today's 10k was my first proper attempt at a run. Why on earth did I choose a run that went twice round the high road on Arthur's Seat? But run it I did, not a slow-to-a-walk in sight. Okay, so it was slow, 1h10m, but on a flat course I reckon I can get below the hour, which I don't think is bad for someone who feels much better tackling these things on two wheels rather than two feet. And for someone used to being at the back of the field in these types of thing, there was a reassuringly high number of people still behind me. I even managed a last half mile kick to the line.

Just need to get myself swimming now.