The last time I tried to start running I tried out the 'Couch to 5k' plan which aims to ease you into running gradually over the course of 10 weeks. 10 weeks doesn't seem long because 5k, in the early stages, seems like soooo far. Well this time I'd adopted a different strategy and joined the beginners running club, but Wednesday just gone a combination of being stuck at work late, pissistent [sic] rain and a twinge in my inner thigh saw me chicken out of class. But I still wanted to do parkrun so yesterday morning I got myself out of bed, threw on my leggings and swanky new merino midlayer and headed for Exhibition Park with Gordo in tow for moral support.
I set off as normal hoping to do at least as well as I did last week (if you remember, I managed to get to the 2km marker which I was thrilled about!). As with last week I could see the first marker in the distance but my legs didn't seem to be wanting to go and I had to almost fight against the urge to walk, but in the back of my mind I was just concerned with how rubbish I'd feel if I didn't at least match my performance from last week so I kept going. The first marker passed and I was headed on towards the second. There's a puddle spanning the gate just at the 2km marker and when I stopped just past it last week that's when I developed a stitch so I tried to keep the jogging rhythm going this week as I cautiously side-stepped it. Once through the gate I thought to myself "wouldn't it be great if I could just keep going to the 3km marker - that would be great progress" so I trundled on. The path in between the 2 and 3km markers is deadly straight and just seemed to go on forever but I made it and did a gleeful punch of the air. "So I've reached the 3km marker, can I keep going?" There's a section in between the 3 and 4km markers which is ever so slightly uphill into a headwind and the marshall last week said to me that I'd be doing good if I could get past it so I kept that in mind and jogged on, determined to get past it, and you know what... I did. As I reached the 90degree turn in the path just before the 4km marker the marshalls were clapping and spurring me on as they do with everyone and for a bit of self-gratification I shouted ahead of myself "this is the furthest I've ever managed without stopping - I NEED A HIGH FIVE!!" and got one with bells on along with encouragement to keep going. "Well... I've made it to the 4km marker it would be stupid to stop now wouldn't it. Come on Caz, keep going, push it right through, imagine how great it will feel to have jogged the whole thing."
When you reach the 4km marker you can see the finish flag. It's quite a distance away but looks so beautiful billowing in the gentle breeze and my rhythm seemed too easy to keep going to stop now. I jogged. No faster than I can walk on a good day, but I jogged. With the finish line in sight I jogged some more. A photographer [breathe in, look convincing] and then whatdya know, I've crossed the finish line and after announcing that it's my first time jogging the whole 5km there's rapturous praise and congratulations and another high five from my beloved.
Did I just do that? Did I just go from couch to 5km in 3 weeks? Blimey. I only managed to knock 38 seconds off last weeks time but that's irrelevant - I ran the whole thing! Of course I've set the bar for myself now, I'm never going to be able to walk any of it again but that's fine - from now I concentrate on improving my times and getting stronger.
Oh man this feels good. I'm a runner.
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