“And it's not about you joggers who go round and round and round”
I was supposed to be doing Parkrun this morning. That was the plan. I’d printed out my bar-code, counted out the change for the car park, screwed my courage to the sticking place, and was ready to run with a bunch of strangers for the first time. Got in the car and started it up - only to find a pinging warning light and ominous message.
Clearly I’m not driving anywhere until I’ve sorted that out, so a new plan is needed. I want to try running 5K today, but I am going to have to do it on my own.
I step outside and try to put my key in the zip pocket in my running tights. Can’t find the pocket. Realise my tights are inside-out. Well, at least I haven’t discovered this in front of 200-odd Proper Runners. Back inside to sort my clothing out.
Third time’s the charm, right? I set off again, but it doesn’t seem like an auspicious start. My legs feel heavy already and I’m only on the warm-up walk.
There’s only one place nearby large enough for a 5K route that isn’t mostly on roads, and that’s the country park. Pro: I will be doing a park run of sorts. Con: the country park is the home of the Brutal Hill. I have no better ideas, so I head that way despite my lack of oomph.
Time to run. I start Runkeeper as I want to see how long it takes me to run 5K. The first five minutes are rubbish. I am fully appreciating why we call it the Toxic 10. I slog up the hill and am panting like an unfit dog by the time I reach the top. Robo-Kat, the Runkeeper “voice”, tells me ten minutes are up. Clearly it’s going to be a Toxic 15, at minimum. Down into the woods. I appreciate the beauty of the woodland path through a haze of sweat. This is much harder than usual. I am regretting last night’s gin cocktails and curry. Check my watch: 15 mins. I’ve been able to run for this long since week 5, but it doesn’t feel like it today.
Up another slope. These woods are full of gradients I’ve never noticed when I’ve walked this route. I lose track of the way at a junction of six paths and have to stop to locate the marker. I am secretly glad, as I can slow to a walk for a few seconds. Robo-Kat has a hissy fit and tells me “Activity paused”. She then spends the next ten minutes repeatedly pausing and unpausing so the music is constantly interrupted. I contemplate hurling my phone into the woods.
I reach the meadow where I need to turn around. A couple of walkers ahead of me look at me with pity as I pass them. Check watch: 28 mins. I head back the way I came, and something miraculous happens: my breathing steadies, my legs feel lighter, and I finally find my rhythm. Apparently it was the Toxic 28 today. 😳
Robo-Kat chimes in again to tell me I’ve run for 30 mins and covered 3.75km. I mutter darkly to myself and keep going.
On the path back, I meet more runners and dog-walkers. I am now the level of pink and sweaty that causes other runners to grin and give you the thumbs up, and non-runners to start tapping 999 into their phones just in case. A cute dog greets me excitedly, and runs alongside me until it realises I am too slow to be interesting.
Up the final hill. It is literally all downhill from here. At the top, I can’t help but slow to a walk for 30 seconds. My legs are *knackered*. I force myself to run again. Down the hill and back on the road. “You have run for 40 minutes and 4.5km,” says Robo-Kat, with all the emotion and enthusiasm of a bored call-centre operator. I miss Sarah. I push on for the last half-kilometre.
A ping sounds, and Robo-Kat announces anticlimactically “Workout over”. I gratefully slow to a walk. 5.11km in 43.52. Not as fast as I’d hoped, but still a respectable time. Plus I can surely take a minute or two off for the hills.
By the time I get home, my cheer has returned and I’m pleased with myself for actually completing 5K. It won’t be a regular thing yet as I need to do more consolidation runs, but at least I know I can do it, even on a really bad day. I’ve got the Race for Life in 3 weeks, and I feel much better about my chances of completing it now.
“All the runners
So many runners
And they all go hand-in-hand
Hand-in-hand through their parklife”