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"

6:15pm rolled round and I was standing outside the entrance to Gosforth Central Park once again eager to get going. Gradually a few more fellow joggers arrived and the question was asked to me almost immediately:
"So, how was Saturday's run then?"
They were referring, of course to my first parkrun. My marathon paced jaunt across Newcastle's Exhibition Park. I regaled them with tales of how much I enjoyed it and how fun it was to take part and how I'll definitely be doing it again and they should REALLY consider coming along too, but before I'd finished my efforts to convince them we were off, warming up our muscles ready for the hour-long punishment which would ensue.

I had finished the warm up, done the first lot of sprints and the recovery lap which follows every 'effort' before I realised what had happened - I'd done it. At last weeks class I really felt it from the start and at times I struggled to keep going on the recovery laps even walking in parts, but tonight I was like a diesel engine just tractoring round. It got harder as the hour wore on and I found myself really slowing down towards the end but any time I was asked to run I did just that - ran. But please, don't call me Forest.

I found myself wanting to make more of an effort to run rather than jog. I don't want to be a jogger who drags her feet along the ground at a snail's pace. I want to run like I mean it - I want my legs to go round and round like a proper runner and I want to feel strong enough to do it. I'll get there. It'll just take time. Strength doesn't come overnight. I just need to make sure I maintain an effort to get myself fit outside and inside.

My better half was out for the evening so I knew I was fending for myself with tea and for a brief moment it crossed my mind to call for a takeaway or stop at the supermarket for a pizza but the thought dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared. Instead I found myself less than an hour later, sat watching The Apprentice with a bowl of tuna and pesto pasta, a big side salad and 3 pieces of garlic bread with a punnet of raspberries for dessert. I'm unstoppable in my quest for health.

After the class the group leader had stressed the importance of crosstraining and a secret grin spread across my face as I slipped into a daydream about getting out on my new mountain bike. A gloss white Santa Cruz Nickel frame is on its way to steal my heart and with any luck it might be built up ready for an inaugural ride on my birthday. Until then I'll run. I'll run, for biking strength. I'll run, because I'm actually enjoying it. I'll run, for my life.

Today's motivational phrase: don't reward yourself with food - you're not a dog.