Of my recent blog posts, the one which caused the most furore (love that word) was when I talked about cheese and running.
I know. I love to mix things up, my friends.
To be fair, it was my assertion that cheese and fruit cannot be mixed as a single entity that caused the most fuss. I have considered this in great detail and am still of the mind that Wensleydale with cranberries is the work of the devil. Others may disagree, but they probably think ham and pineapple pizzas are okay too.
For the record, they’re not.
Anyway, cheese bigotry to one side, I thought I would give you an update on my progress as a runner.
Oh yes, I’m a runner now, although probably in the same way as I’m an electrician (I learnt how to wire a plug 30 years ago) and guitarist (I know three chords and apparently this makes me a Country musician).
As you may recall, the New Year dawned and I decided that the cheese eating had to stop and the running had to start. I downloaded the Couch Potato to 5K Podcast, dusted off my trainers and started my running career with the wide-eyed positivity of a young child.
Two months on I am delighted to share with you the things I have learnt:
I am never going to be a marathon runner. I will never compete in a triathlon. I have no desire to complete a 10K run. I may manage 5K. I just want to be able to run for a bit without gasping for breath. I want to make the most of the body I have but I don’t want to push it to its limit. I love the sensation of completing a run but I don’t want to do it every day.
I like to run alone. A few friends have suggested joining up and running together. This will never happen. I like to keep my own pace and look ridiculous all by myself. If I could run with a bag over my head I would.
I need someone to tell me how to run and I have found the ideal candidate. Her name is Laura and she is the lady on Podcast (I mentioned her last time). She is perfect because she is encouraging without being bossy and she isn’t real so won’t get cross when I cut short the warm-down walk (please don’t tell her).
Never mind about a sports bra, you have to find the right pants for running (underwear if you’re American). There is nothing more undignified than trying to pull your knickers out of your bum whilst jogging, although the drivers of the cars passing you may find it amusing.
I keep going even if I feel as if I’m going to collapse in a gasping heap. I either focus on the thought of a slimmer, fitter me or if I’m really knackered I think about that biscuit I’m going to have as a reward when I get home.
I like to channel my inner Jessica Ennis-Hill or imagine I’m in a dramatic scene from a movie. Running in drizzling rain adds to the romance of this particular moment.
So there you have it – I am a lone, movie-star runner with occasional underwear issues, but above all, I enjoy it and I never thought I would.
That’s all the motivation I need for now.