I have not run or done any sport in over a month, not since I hurt my arm in Richmond Station; an embarrassing fall caused by a flimsy Waitrose bag and a large bottle of Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Before then my runs were a basically a tour of the beautiful large red brick houses in and around Turnham Green but were infrequent. I generally enjoy these runs, but more often than not I find getting into the habit of doing them, or creating the motivation to go out when there is so much else to do the hardest part. So the thought of training and doing 13.1 miles practically scares me!
At home in Yorkshire during the summer breaks from school and University I used to bike almost every day. Starting was always the toughest part; the hill at the bottom of my village through the estate up to St Mary’s church was always daunting, and right at the beginning of my journey. However every time when I eventually made it to the top without stopping it felt like an achievement… after the second or third attempt. The rest of that bike ride was generally easy; apart from a few other little inclines on the country lanes. Each day would get easier and my bike rides longer, till eventually it did not seem like an effort anymore and I even looked forward them.
That bike ride I feel is going to be similar to my journey to the finish line on October 9th. The first runs will be painful but hopefully after a few attempts I will get into my stride, and perhaps those 13.1 miles won’t seem so scary anymore!
So this last weekend I decided was going to be the start of my training for October 9th. On Sunday, Michael and I had a 4.5-milish trot back home from tennis at the highly recommended Pedro Academy of Tennis in Queen’s Park. Progress was impeded though by the persistent weight of an offensive jacket potato consumed a little while before. With this culinary disappointment sitting on minds and stomachs it was hard to concentrate on forward momentum and pace.
Setting wise the run was disappointing at best; starting in the beautiful suburbia of Queens Park and Kensal Rise and moving unfortunately far too quickly on to an aesthetically limited landscape of drab low-rise offices and warehouses, interlaced by train tracks and a crossing of the A40. The leafy boulevards would have provided more inspiration for propulsion.
Despite these impediments we arrived home safely, thanks largely to my trusty IPhone maps, rather than the preferred written directions forgotten by Michael!
The first run was perhaps the hardest, but I think for now I will go back to my jogs around the streets of Chiswick, and perhaps a bath to sooth my re-awakened muscles.
As ever please sponsor me on http://www.justgiving.com/Eleanor-Herring for Bowel Cancer UK when I run the Royal Parks Foundation Half Marathon!
As ever please sponsor me on http://www.justgiving.com/Eleanor-Herring for Bowel Cancer UK when I run the Royal Parks Foundation Half Marathon!
