Last week I agreed to complete my second Race for Life in the space of a month. My friend needed my support.... I was there.
Only I didn't really think about the fact that she goes out running. Fairly regularly. And I don't.
"It's alright, we'll do it together" she responded, when I said that it really didn't matter if she wanted to run ahead at any point. I'm not fit, I pointed out, I'll be walking most of it. "No problem", she said, "I haven't trained for it anyway. We'll walk fast shall we?"
Hmmmmm. I walked fast for most of the Race for Lift in Nottingham. (Jogging both at the start and end, of course!) And I managed to complete that in 43 minutes. But now, I'd set a yardstick. My mate obviously wasn't going to let me do it slower! "Come on," she encouraged, "we can beat that time easily!".
So I found myself jogging. A lot.
By the time we got to the final kilometre I felt I was going to struggle to jog the last section. But then a buggy overtook us. Not just a basic, standard, single buggy. Oh No. A double buggy. With an annoyingly relaxed, fully made-up, glamorous sunglasses-wearing Yummy Mummy pushing it along at a pace far superior to mine.
Well. What's a girl to do. Somehow I ran the last section, and knocked 5 minutes off my previous time, completing the 5 km in 38 minutes.
Which was great. And I was on a high for the rest of the day.
Haven't been able to walk since though. And I didn't beat the buggy.......