I wasn't going to do a run yesterday but it was such a nice morning and I was up early so once I'd walked the dog I turned straight around and set off on a run.
It was one of those lovely runs where I felt relaxed and just knew I was going to be fine running 5k. Do others find that a bad run is often followed by a glorious one, I wonder? If time had allowed I'd have seen how much further I could run but I had work to get to. 36 minutes again - don't know if I'll ever manage the 5k in 30 mins but it really doesn't matter much.
My mother's asked if I'm considering the Great North Run next year. God love her but I'm a LONG way off a 12 mile run. She's got me thinking though - not next year, but maybe the one after that?
In the meantime I've still to get to the stage where I can comfortably run 5k three times a week. At the moment it's a case of 2 good runs sanctioning one difficult run. Once I know I can do the 5k every time I'll be doing park run. Some workmates have threatened to come and cheer me on when I do - I think they're as amazed as I am that I've taken to running after so many years of being a bit of a podgy couch potato.