I have never been athletic in any way.
Not competitive. Not sports minded. Not tactical. Not really capable, if I'm honest.
I hate swimming (too wet)
I hate ball games (can't catch, throw or kick a ball)
I hate golf (the clothes alone....really.)
I hate tennis (too energetic)
I hate basketball (too many jumps and speed turns)
I hate hockey (too dangerous, those sticks...)
I hate cricket (too complicated)
I hate rugby (looks dangerous, is dangerous. And muddy)
I hate football (boring; rugby without the guts and glory)
I hate skiing (too cold)
I'm not really built for sport either; a bit too clumsy, a bit too heavy, a bit too self concious. I was always picked last for teams at school, and then let everyone down by running the wrong way up the hockey pitch, or knocking over the high jump, or just running away altogether if it all got a bit too aggressively competitive.
As an adult, I have had various attempts at gym membership over the years, but there is always a bit of palaver with gym sessions; travel time, complicated exercise regimes, carrying toiletries and changes of clothes to and fro, not to mention the horror of communal showers and changing rooms.
So, although I have good underlying energy, strength and health, my formal fitness regime had lain dormant (to put it kindly) for some years. Then, about 9 weeks ago, I received a text from a friend with the portentous message 'I think we should start running', and found myself replying instantly 'I'm up for it'. I didn't really know if I was up for it, but realised in that moment that I wanted to give it a damned good try.
What makes an apparantly split second decision feel right? Well, I guess for some time I'd had the faint rumbling sensation at the back of my mind that I should take up some sort of fitness regime.I had recently rejoined Weight Watchers (oh boy, that is a whole other post for another day...) and was slowly losing weight, but I knew that wasn't enough. Also, I turned 50 in May this year, and whilst I am totally cool with that (and yes, I realise you probably have to be 50 to think that saying 'cool' is, well, cool....) I was determined not to slump into cardigan-wearing, elasticated waistband, frumpy, comfortably plump territory as my 50's progressed. In other words, I was ready for a challenge.
So, had you been passing our road end some nine weeks ago at 5.45am, you would have seen two ladies, sans make up, giggling a bit at the absurdity of the situation, fumbling with the C25K app on their mobile phones, preparing to set off into the unknown. Me, dressed in an odd assortment of old leggings, a teeshirt of Derek's, and an ancient golf cagoule from one of the boys' golfing phases, all topped off with a discarded school hat from Isaac's Primary school days (one of those fleecy ones with three little tassles on top). I looked ridiculous. My friend was a great deal more sleek in nice little running leggings and top, hair pulled back professionally in a pony tail. And so, off we went, for our first run.
I will never forget it. After our brisk 5 minute warm up walk, we were to run for 1 minute, then walk for one minute, and repeat this cycle 8 times. I thought I was going to die. My heart was pounding. My lungs hurt. My breath was gasping. My thighs felt like jelly. My hip joints ached. My calf muscles nipped. Sweat was prickling down my back. My hair was stuck to my face. When our half hour was over, we both agreed it was so terribly hard. Yet we agreed to meet the next again day at the same early hour to do the second run of the week, and then the third. Each time we followed the same pattern of running and walking for alternate minutes. By the end of that first week we found we rather liked it; we began to feel we were coping better. Our long neglected muscles began to wake up, and respond accordingly. By the end of that first week, our fitness had improved a tiny little bit.
Fast forward to now, and what can I say? I am madly in love with running. I run three times a week, still using the C25K app, which I can strongly recommend to anyone who would like to try running for the first time, as it guides you through every run and gradually builds up your running time each week. I am now running for 28 minutes without stopping, and loving every endorphin filled moment of it. I am dizzy with the sense of personal achievement running has given me, and the first time I ran for 28 minutes without stopping I actually shouted aloud with joy, so great was the sense of exhilaration (and disbelief!).
Unfortunately my friend has had to take a few weeks off running, but with her blessing, I have continued. Running alone at 5.45am didn't appeal, so I now go out when the boys leave for school, and run along the towpath of our local canal. It is beautiful, the wide, tarmac path is comfortable to run on; I pass other runners, cyclists, and dog walkers, and say a cheery 'Good Morning' to them as I pass. I see ducks and swans on the water; grey squirrels scampering up and down trees, preoccupied with finding and storing supplies for the coming winter, and sometimes a big buzzard gliding overhead.
There is a strange disparity between body and mind when running; my mind is relaxed, chewing over various ideas, or plans, quite seperate from the hard work my body is doing to keep propelling me forward at a steady pace. Yet in other ways there is a strong sense of mind and body working in harmony, as I psyche myself up to run without stopping, try to control my breathing, to use the music I listen to as a distraction from the fatigue that creeps up on me as I run.
The overwhelming sensation in both mind and body is one of intense wellbeing, connecting with an ancient, elemental human ability (need?) to run, to feel free, to breathe deeply, to sense the immediate environment, the smells, sounds, sights; each is quickly assessed and sorted, yet there is also a feeling of calm, of having plenty of time to see where you are. Overall, I am aware of such a sense of privilege, to have the time, and the physical ability to just....run. I honestly never thought I could do it, but I found that I can, and it is wonderful. I feel committed to running, I want running to be part of my life for as long as I am fit to do it. I have signed up for the 10k next May, just after my 51st birthday. Oh, and the tasseled hat? The first time I ran for 20 minutes without stopping I treated myself to an infinately more respectable runner's hat from the local sports shop.
