There's a possibility that after 6 months I might be (shhh, I'll say this quietly) a runner. Not a quick runner, not a record breaking runner, not a marathon runner; but in my own quiet way a runner.
It's so weird that this is something I love doing, something I chose to do, something that makes me feel more alive with every breath. After the age of 15 (when I was on every team and a sporty, if chunky girl) I did no sport. The closest I came was: putting on games kit, walking to the squash court, signing my name, having a fag, and walking back. At uni I went to the gym very sporadically but never did any real cv work. The occasional swim or yoga session have sufficed for the last 10 years - now all that has changed and I don't know why. Is it age, is it time, is it just a weird switch that flicks in the brain of so many 25-35 yearolds'?
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So, today I only did one mile. And then some gym work - but the one mile was run in 8:27 with a 1% incline. It took looking back through my log to realise that this is literally my fastest ever mile. I know it's a word I overuse but I was properly chuffed - that one mile was a real marker of how much my running has progressed in the last 6+ months.
The rest of me enjoyed the gym too - it was good to get all the muscles going again. Even did 10mins on the step machine at the end - that turned me into some sort of human puddle and made the calves burn - I hope they appreciated it.
Ah, feeling the buzz and the burn today.
Car still sounds like crap (possibly more metallic and clunky than crap).
I've finally tracked down my eye drops so the delightful demon pink is going to subside.
Didn't get the work done - and the deadlines are really LOOOOMING
Still no cheque from hmrc ...
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