The whistle blew and the other three runners shot away from me. With 1200m still to go, I was struggling to breathe and my legs felt like lead. Managing to get round the track once as the other runners shot past to finish the race, the entire school started cheering me on. Mainly walking with a few running spurts, I limped round another circuit by which point the cheers turned to shouted bored jibes. Lamenting my 20 a day fag habit and seven years spent bunking games, I managed to get round the last bit, puce faced and desperately wanting to hide, be sick and pass out. This, was school sports day. Circa 1998. That day, I vowed never to try and ‘run’ again.
Ten years later, older, wiser and definitely more active, I decided to try and conquer my fear. And so after eight weeks of training, it is now just 12 hours until I’m lining up in Hyde Park to start my first ever 5k run. For those of you who I haven’t bored to death of this subject already, learning to run has been an enlightening and empowering experience. From a rather unhealthy sedentry lifestyle to finally feeling like I might just be sporty, the hard work has paid off.
I’ve chosen to Parkinson’s Charity to raise money for and people have been very supportive. If you would like to support me in tomorrow’s endeavour, you can do so here…
Any and all donations here....
