On a cool summer Wednesday evening, after work, on the 20^th of August 2014 I started the NHS couch to 5 K programme.  The Didcot rabbits were out in force along the grass verge, the sun was shining in a friendly manner and there was a light breeze.  I had only just moved to the area and knew exactly two people, my landlord and the letting agent, so I wasn’t even slightly self-conscious about being spotted.   I had a new purpose, I was going to run gosh darn it and I felt great about it – until about 10 seconds into the first minute jog!

In the weeks prior to that fateful first run I had been mentally preparing myself for the possibility of running.  Armed with the internet I found out about the NHS Couch to 5 K programme.   I was touched and motivated by reading the success stories of people making it to the end of the programme and I wanted to become one.  Eventually I managed to psych myself up enough to give it a go, after all, I wouldn’t become a runner without actually running.

So it begins… Session 1 is a 5 minute warm up walk and then 60 s of running followed by 90 s of recovery walking for 20 minutes (that’s 8 cycles, therefore 8 minutes running total).

As the first running bit came up I felt ecstatically emphatic, I would become one of those motivational stories, I would lose dramatic amounts of weight and captivate people with tales of my physical prowess.  I would accomplish something and I felt generally great….  As previously stated this feeling lasted for about 10 seconds.  Each subsequent second got worse.  Each footfall seemed heavier than the last.  Each pull of breath into my lungs was ever less satisfying.  By the time the first minute “jog” was up I felt positively awful.  My heartbeat was erratic and I was gasping frantically for breath.  And I still had 7 cycles of this torture left?!  Surely I could run 7 more minutes?  Only it seemed not.

By halfway I couldn’t do it anymore.  It was too much.  I stopped and went home for a nap.

Instead of giving up entirely, like I had done in the past, I rested for a day and set off again with renewed gusto.  I was determined to run for the full session.  At that point I did not care about making it to week 9, or running a marathon.  My sole focus was just to run those full 8 minutes… or at least to run further than I had done the first time.  So I was disproportionately triumphant when I completed the run.  Out of breath, yes, aching legs, yes, an alarming shade of red in the face, yes, but I had also done something which I thought impossible:  I had gone and completed a run.

Over the weeks that followed I stubbornly stuck to the NHS couch to 5 K podcasts.  Each completed run added to my confidence.  I still wasn’t sure how on earth I would get round 20 minutes of continuous running (end of week 5) let alone 30 minutes in just 9 weeks but I started to believe that it might just be possible.

I have done a lot of self-reflecting lately; I had a bad run and it made me question if perhaps I was actually crazy to attempt a marathon so soon (rather than people just telling me I am) – but if I look back on how far I have come in just one year then it doesn’t seem crazy to me at all.

On 20/08/14 I ran for maybe 4 minutes (with walking breaks) and it left me an exhausted wreck needing to lie down (!) on 20/08/15 I ran a leisurely 10 K (01:06:33) with a friend, whilst having a chat, then cycled home.  My idea of a bad run is now stopping at 18.6 K after hitting my head on a tree branch, being mauled by foliage, running out of water, tripping over a tree root and scraping my arm on a fence post.  It will not be easy and it will not be quick and I will not look glamourous whilst doing it but I will make it around the 26.2 miles of Portuguese coastline in October.

Quick shout out to those of you who wrote to me to say you made it round week 5!  You are doing great!  I am so happy my story inspired you to try!

Week 8: Total mileage for the week was 28 K (17.4 miles), total running time was 3:02.