In 2021 I took up running at some point. I hate it yet I persist in doing it. I wonder why?
Running is universally awful. It makes your legs ache your lungs ache you become ridiculously sweaty and feel generally miserable after attempting it. I run for exactly 5km and by the end watch the distance slowly increase on my watch until it hits exactly 5km and I can stop and limp the rest of the way home. I wear horrible grey-green joggers, a pair of ancient cheap trainers and a Pokémon hoodie (from Lt. Surge’s gym).
I started it, like most things in my life, from a bet. A friend said “Do Couch to 5k… bet you can’t”. So of course I did. He gave up after week 4. I saw it through as I always do as the stubborn arse that I am. I did it initially in a pair of Birkenstock sandals which were ground down to the leather by the end.
I *hated* it.
I hated Sarah Miligan’s cheery voice telling me “Ah you’ve done really well, pet”. Turned that off after the first run. Went for a more sedate and boring one and even then was annoyed by their attempts to encourage.
I hated how easy it was to begin with… then how it was just a case of being stubborn.
I hated how it took over half an hour to run the 5k despite continuous encouragement that it was 5km in 30 minutes.
Eventually, after completing it, and still continuing… I did manage to do the run in under 30 minutes. Once. Normally it takes 32.5 minutes, and I hate that I know that. Sometimes I go a little further. Sometimes a little faster. I run round a Victorian pleasure garden and then a lake. There are ducks. There was a tufty duck with a hair do that looked like a pompadour but he’s dead now. But when I did do the under 30 minute run I was somewhat smug.
I hate running. But I keep doing it.
Who really knows why?
Running for almost exactly 5k, Helps keep all of my demons away! I hate it when I do it, But I try to plow through it, Cos my thighs look all lumpy and gay!