I love Christmas, really I do. But at approximately 12.35 today as I struggled home with enough potatoes to feed an army I was feeling a bit like the mother in the much-criticised Asda Christmas TV ad, doing everything for her ungrateful family (Which is clearly ridiculous as I don’t even have a husband to be useless.)
My pre-C25K response would probably have involved Galaxy, alcohol and a duvet.
But today I realised that I haven’t been for a run all week since my ‘failed’ run last Monday. I could put it down to the constant rain or the fact that I was away, but this is the longest I’ve been without running since I started way back in September.
Not feeling in the least like a run I set out, worried that there wouldn’t be time to have a swim before the pond closed. I spent 20 minutes in the meadow next to the pond doing Laura’s Strength and Flexibility exercises from memory. Shoulder rolls, knee bends, undignified squats over a bench, pull ups from railings and, my absolute favourite, the one which, from a distance looks as if you are making love to a tree.
Even on the sloping lawn the grass was completely sodden which convinced me that the muddy paths would be too slippery to run on; I had a quick dip (3.5C and six cormorants) and walked back to my car. But it just wasn’t enough, so five minutes later I was running along the tarmac paths dodging all those sprawling families with their children and dogs and trikes and scooters.
It felt great to be running again, and although I didn’t run non-stop for 30 minutes, I did run without Laura or any music, which meant I could enjoy hearing the cacophony of languages that people speak in these parts.
By the time I got home I felt a whole lot better. Not great. But much better.
On Christmas morning I’m planning on a run and a swim before I put the roast potatoes in the oven. If it’s not raining I might even manage a quick, pre-Christian trist with an oak tree.