My Inaugural Run

And so it was that on 1st May 2012, in the half-light of dawn, instead of rummaging in the cupboard for a box of cereal for breakfast I found myself rummaging through the detritus that lurks at the bottom of my wardrobe looking for something suitable to put on my feet. It seems completely improbable now considering my growing sports kit fetish, but I didn't even actually own a pair of trainers. I settled on what could perhaps best be described as a 'deck shoe' that had the cushioning of a Jesus sandal, not to mention a three-centimetre gap between my big toe and the end of the shoe that caused a slight folding action when I walked.

Working upwards, I teamed them with regular cotton ankle socks (white for sportiness), the pyjama bottoms that I had slept in because they vaguely resembled tracksuit material, a long-sleeved T shirt (again, white for sportiness), a regular bra and a woolly cardigan because it looked a bit chilly outside. I downed 2 pints of water because I didn't want to get dehydrated and went flying out of the door -I'm going for a run! Yes, a run! I sprinted to the end of the drive, where completely asphyxiated, I had to stop and get my breath back. It was at this point that I realised I might have to slow down a little if I wanted my endurance to last more than 100 metres. I jogged when I could, walked when I couldn't and invented a little circuit of what I would later find out was all of 2 kilometres long.

Halfway round, magenta in the face and incredibly itchy, I removed the knitted cardigan and tied the arms really tightly around my chest in an attempt to reinforce my bra. The lower legs of my pyjama bottoms had got a bit soggy from dew and the extra weight of the water was creating an awful lot of drag on the flimsy drawstring at my waist so I had to use one hand to hold my trousers up. My socks had slid down my feet and were pooling in the gap between my toes and the end of the shoes. My bladder was rapidly filling up after the 2 pints of water and I was in danger of adding to the sogginess of my pyjama bottoms. However, despite the minor setbacks I arrived back at home feeling elated and I basked in the glory of my incredible sporting achievement as I rewarded myself with a post-run veggie sausage sandwich.

If this was going to become a habit though I would seriously have to invest in some proper kit.