The time has come. I can't deny it any more. It's 'new year, new me' season, and I've vowed to get my sorry ass running in 2015, by hook or by crook. The Run Way is my journey, and it starts right here.
This time last week, I was forced to reveal my crushing personal defeat at having done no runs in a whole week. Now, I can say I have managed to do my personal best time (6 minutes 13 for a km - yes, I know that's how long it takes most people to complete a marathon), and distance - 5.26k. I exceeded a 5k! And I didn't die. Plus I did it while listening to Iggy Azalea 'Bounce' on repeat because my music failed. And the best thing about it? My Nike + didn't work for the first 1.2k of the run (I asked my husband to prod it when I was speeding out the door and it didn't press properly), so it didn't even capture my glory!
Luckily, I was backed up with my Up, so I have viable proof for disbelievers, but after thinking my running career had hit the skids, I had a reason to feel proud. I even followed it up with another speedy run the next day. I still haven't made it to three runs per week, but looks like that can be my next challenge.
The big change this week, was that my 5k was completed in daylight hours - a midday run around an expanded town loop including a stint in a park - and it meant a new addition to my experience so far - the running buddy. You know them: the guys and girls tracking similar paths around town, usually speedier, and with less sweat, who smile understandingly as they come in the opposite direction and/ or lap you. It's the new dog walkers union. While you'd never dream of speaking to your neighbours or fellow country folk, here you are grinning and high-fiving to keep each other motivated.
I've realised there are probably three sorts of running buddy. One is the first type I encountered, the mannerly marathon-runner. They're old hands, wear good sturdy old running shoes, a battered high-vis wind-cheater and get out of your way when you come panting towards them. They'll probably nod and have enough breath to say thanks. I like these peeps.
The second is more like me: slow as a tortoise, sweating profusely, clearly only beginning their uphill struggle with fitness. They've got a mis-matched wardrobe of one new item, a couple of hand-me down bits (from friends and partners of the opposite sex and different size). They also give you loads of eye-contact in the run-up to each-other and will issue a big richtus grin to will themselves on as much as to will you through. I met one of these guys the other night. He was wearing a rugby cap to stop himself from injuring his head. My mouth was so tacky from endurance (is that normal? weird jelly mouth?) I merely offered him a cat's bum mouth in return for his cheery smile.
The third is not a real human. You'll see them as much in the dead of night as in the early morn. They're more machine than earthly being. They'll be clad head-to-toe in pioneering technical kit, usually all black (no need for visibility, they are speed shadows), and keep their eyes focussed and still into the middle distance, never breaking their stride for fellow nor automobile. Don't expect any kind of facial expression from them. They are not your buddy, they are a training automaton, and you must fear for humanity when you see them.*
Either way, it's made me feel as if I've unlocked a new community. I'm on their team. We're all running the same race (albeit at different speeds). I'm a runner now...
*Or you could just try and trail them to see if you can keep pace. You won't last a minute. And you may look like a stalker.