There a lot of ladies in my area who run, all times of the day and night I come across them.
As I sedately walk my girls some pass me by at speed, cutting through the air like a barracuda through water, sleek in their lycra attire with a steely look of determination on their face. Others trot past in small groups gasping for air and attempting conversation, neither very successfully.
Having seen this I decided it was time I too started to run, the benefits are numerous and best of all it is free. My Dad was a runner, every day pounding the pavement mile after mile, he even ran marathons #bigrespect, so maybe I had inherited his running gene, I mean it’s possible right? I was feeling upbeat about this running malarkey. Husband plotted me out a mile route, yes that’s right one whole mile, I plugged in the ipod and off I went.
I only had to stop 4 times, throughout the maiden run; once to throw up, then to surreptitiously empty the massive build up of saliva that had started frothing in my mouth giving me the appearance of a rabies sufferer, stoppage time for skidding in dog poop and when my ear-phone cables became entangled with an unruly privet hedge nearly garrotting me.
Staggering through the door, husband commented that my face had turned purple and asked if I had gone round twice due to the amount of time I was out the house. At this point I was beyond speech so had to retaliate with a v-sign, very mature.
Do some people have an innate ability to run like I have to drink white wine? How do these ladies make it look so easy, the amazing and funny AGMA – check her out runs marathons, that’s plenty more than one mile, that’s like loads of miles, that’s 26 miles, that’s forever and in my case it also means 26 vomits, spits, piles of poop and near death experiences – on second thoughts I’ll have a nice sit down I wouldn’t want to risk it …
Photo credit : FitMash