So off I went on my totally non fancy running outfit and a total lack of running knowledge.
I flickered through my favourite songs and decided on an old classic Queen- Don’t stop me now. Suitable much.
I then proceeded to stretch (basically try and fail to touch my toes.) and then started trying to run? jog? I don’t know. The pain was next to immediate and -unbearable-. I kept trying to get some air into my lungs. My brain felt foggy. But somehow, somewhat I kept pushing. I thought.. “This is good for me. I am doing this. I know where my pain is. I just have to shut it up.”.
Some time later (definitely over 7 minutes) a voice chanted music in my ears. Distance… 1 kilometre. 1 whole kilometre of sweat, swearing and pain. I felt as if I was dying yet I was exhilarated so I went on, kept going and only stopped at the 4 kilometres mark when I was about to retire and claim an early grave. As if. I didn’t know that the running bug had been born. That this run would be the first of many. I didn’t know yet but I was completely hooked.
And, needless to say, took the bus, went home and ate the whole house. After all, I was a runner now and needed all sorts of calories.