Dropping Hubby-to-Be at work, I once again made my way to the park, determined that this week, an entire week of 25 minute runs was not going to send me running to hide or quitting (the woe-is-me times have come, gone and will get a kick up the backside if they turn up again)
The walk over, Sarah told me to go and I went but was conscious of pacing, not going too fast and breathing (probably helped that I've added some music with slower BPMs to my tracklist - and imagining Mam grabbing onto the back of my shirt to slow me down probably helped too) well, first the 5 minutes came, I listened to David Bowie telling me about the problems that come with Fame, then I blinked to find the counter was down to 18mins, where my brain started to want to stop but I reminded myself 'come on, it's only 3 minutes, you can do that, you've done it before'. Counter got to 15mins, I once again told my slightly tired legs and brain 'come on, 5 minutes and we'll only have 10 minutes to go, this is nothing, we can do it,"
10 minutes left on the clock and Right Said Fred singing about being too sexy had me shaking my little tush on the run route, on the run route, on the run route yeah, I shook my little tush on the run route and then The Tamperer to start telling me how if I did this run my life would be better and how I was just fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fabulous for doing it (sometimes to entertain myself I change the lyrics from the songs in my tracklist to be about running) Honestly, before I knew it, Sarah Millican was asking how I felt and for once I answered 'pretty damned good'. and was told that I only had 5 minutes left.
I finished a 25 minute run (and overtook some other people walking through the park, even at my 'snail on a skateboard' pace) and almost couldn't believe it - I would have basked in victory for a bit longer but the heavens decided to open (RSF telling everyone to make way for me and to stand up for the champion ringing in my ears)