From couch to 5k in... 3 weeks??!!

I kicked ass yesterday. No, seriously I did. Well, for me I did.Yesterday marked my third parkrun and they just keep getting better.

"It's easier to eat junk" and other feeble excuses

I always blamed my increasing chunk on my overgrown appetite. "I just love food" I'd say, thinking that it was something strangely divorced from my own actionable choices. I'd call at the supermarket in the morning and find it hard to resist the lure of freshly baked cookies, or go to a restaurant for a nice meal out with hubs and be so weak-willed that I'd have to have starter, main AND dessert even though it usually left me feeling less than romanced by the end thanks to uber-greedy eyes and an over-bloated gut.

KMs and PBs - it's all about the acronyms.

I'm trying desperately not to think about all those thousands of experienced runners preparing themselves mentally and physically for the London Marathon tomorrow. At the minute the thought of running 26.2 miles is attractive but an utter world away from my capabilities. Thinking of all those 'athletes' makes my own achievement today seem pathetic and unworthy of mention but I have to focus on my own progress and how if I concentrate hard enough on it, that could me me gearing up for the starting line next year.

My name's not Forest, it's Ivor.

"Look at that rain coming down, I bet you'll not be going to running club tonight, eh Carrie"
"Why not?"
"Well 'cause it's lashing down, you'll get soaked!"
"It's only water, it'll not kill me"

Long legs might make for a faster runner, but...

... It is making it very difficult to find kit to fit.

Being tall has always brought with it problems when trying to find clothes to fit but oddly enough not in the way most folks of average verticalness would think. I don't have a problem finding bottoms to fit, when out on the bike or now running I tend to go for shorts or 3/4 lengths anyway so bottoms present no problem to most skyward-bound goddesses such as myself.

Why I ran a 5k straight away

I tried taking up running a few years ago you know. I went out, bought a pair of trainers and set about doing the couch to 5k plan (C25K) but doing it by myself I got bored after less than 2 week and gave up. The trainers slowly languished in the corner of the room and plans to run became an inevitably unmentionable part of my 'history of fads'.

I clearly went about it all wrong. If I have to do anything alone with no support I fail, it's just the way I am and I've learned that through many disappointments over the years. That's why this time I decided to join the beginners running club so at least I had a weekly club to go to surrounded by other women in exactly the same position as me.

Up and running

I sauntered around the Gosforth Central Park feeling slightly less than conspicuous in my black 3/4 gym pants, black cycling jacket and bright yellow and grey trainers. I was looking for a girl named Kerry but I had never met her before and had no clue what she looked like. I did a lap of the park and heading back towards my starting position hoping that I could muster the courage to ask someone "do you know where the running club meets?". But I'm not a runner. I don't look like one, I don't even look like the kind of person who would contemplate running but yet there I was, looking for Kerry.

Dear fat, prepare to die. Love, me.

Dear fat,

Please, you might want to sit down for this as what I'm about to say will upset you. After a lengthy relationship I feel it's about time I admitted - I don't like you.