Before I started running I spent a great many years thinking about it.

Evidence of this exists in the fact that I have actually tried running before.  My earlier attempts to get into running were as follows; In 2007 I went at least three times to Sefton Park in Liverpool to run and in 2010 I went once more.  On all four occasions I went with someone much better at running than me and on all four occasions I stopped before it got too hard.  I just could not get past the hammering in my chest or the instant pain that consumed my entire body.  More than that I could not convince myself that I could do it or what the actual value in it was.

In essence, I talked myself out of running before I had even given it more than a cursory glance.  These early experiences only reconfirmed my lifelong belief that I was rubbish at sports anyway and what was the point?  My strengths lay elsewhere and I was (at least on the surface) okay with that.  You can’t force penguins to fly just because they are birds and have wings.  I was like that.  A misfit penguin amongst greyhounds and hares, of course I couldn’t run, I was embarrassed to have even tried.

But I still thought about running.

I have always admired runners.  They are a fascinating anomaly.  For instance, however you want to sugar coat it, running is a high impact, vigorous, hard, exhausting exercise and yet, runners often look so peaceful on their runs.  Some even claim that running energises them.  When you think of runners you think of elite athletes.  You think of those carefree, beautiful people gliding effortlessly across some idyllic countryside or tropical shoreline into the setting sun.  I wanted to be like that.  But I could not because I was fundamentally a penguin and penguins can’t fly.

But I still thought about running.

And so the pattern for the following years was essentially set.  I would think about exercising or dieting or some other lifestyle change.  And then I would order a take away, binge watch the latest DVD boxset or something I had saved to the Sky Planner and push it to the back of my mind.  It is easy to accept this fate if you have given up on yourself.

Ironically it was actually a TV show on Sky that played a huge part in convincing me I could run.  “Obese: A Year To Save My Life” has morbidly obese people (we are talking anywhere from 27-35 stone) who essentially change their entire lives with the help of a super likable, enthusiastic personal trainer – Chris Powell.  These people are not healthy when they start.  They often have health complications, sleep apnoea, type II diabetes, high blood pressure and they can barely stand without pausing for breath… and yet… as the weeks and months slip by, they become athletes.  They scale mountains, they run half marathons, they cycle across the continent, they do IRON MANs.  They are not the skinny beautiful people of an idea I had, they are the reality.  They are evidence of what you can achieve if you set out with purpose.  Did I want to wait until I was another stone heavier?  Or did I want to try today?  The show doesn’t glamorise the process.  These people sweat, cry, vomit, and scream… they sometimes miss their weight loss targets but they all persevere.  They all have smiles and confidence by the end of the year.  If they can do it, why can’t I do it too?

And when you look more closely, past your superficial preconceptions, runners actually come in all different shapes and sizes and ages and abilities.  Of course there are those who appear graceful in their exertion to whom you can aspire to become but there are also those runners who huff and puff, red and sweating, decidedly unglamorous but still determinedly going about their running business.  And in the end it was these people that inspired me to give running a go – because they made running accessible to me – and for that I am truly grateful.