06:00 (alarm goes off) Gahhhh….what’s that!!! Oh right…
06:05 Feel stupid doing squats whilst brushing my teeth to activate my lazy glutes. But I do it anyway.
06:10 Sitting on the toilet bowl, praying that my bowels will open up. But nooo….pretty sure I’m constipated. Dammit.
06:15 Put on my gear, contemplating if I should wear my Spartan shirt as it might give people the wrong impression. You know, the impression that I am actually able to run. When really I can’t. Run. Gahhhh!!!
06:20 Checked on the kids, still asleep. Husband is, of course, asleep. Drink two glasses of water, worry about dehydration. Contemplate eating something. Then decide not to in case food activates bowels mid-run.
06:30 Pull on trainers. Then take off trainers to go to the loo as realised I drank two large glasses of water and probably should empty bladder.
06:35 Pull on trainers. Leave the house quietly.
06:45 At meeting point, waiting for the rest of the ladies of RR, which stands for Rotherhithe Runners, not Reluctant Runners. I think I am the only Reluctant Runner. Ladies show up, talk about doing 10 miles and training for their marathon. I smile and nod and pretend I’m not in awe.
06:50 Start running, ladies are chatting, I’m thinking…ok how far am I going to get to before I can’t keep up??? Is there somewhere I can stop for coffee and croissants? Ohhh good thing I brought my credit card.
0.5 miles: All 5 of them are in front of me, most of them are having a good old chat. I’m doing my baby elephant running and my lungs kinda hurt. Yup, no way I’m going to keep up with them today. Who knows if I’ll even be able to do 2 miles???!?!!
1 mile: I wave goodbye to H, my nice neighbour who waited for me more times than I can count, as I take the route around Rotherhithe instead of following the RR group. I’m alone. I contemplate putting on my earphones to listen to some Spice Girls. But decide not to Spice Up my Life.
2 miles: Right shin starting to throb, breathing feels nothing short of panting but stupid Garmin says it’s in the acceptable range. WTF does this stupid watch know, I feel like fucking dying and I want to stop.
3 miles: Cleverly dodged a pile of dog poo and was congratulating myself over my deft manoeuvre when I stepped into someone’s spilt curry or something. Great going. Geez.
3.5 miles: Saw this ultra fit, hot-looking lady who breezed past me, all decked out in Sweaty Betty. Now that is a real runner. She’s a gazelle!!! Feeling sorry for myself when I realised I’ve run 3.5 miles now. Yes! I’m not going home today unless I’ve run 5 miles. AT LEAST.
3.75 miles: Ok you know what, 4 miles is pretty decent. I could stop at 4 miles. But think of the RR group, they’re doing 10 miles. Stop being such a wuss. Did you wake up this morning thinking yes I’ll be mediocre?? No sirree!!! COME ON SOLDIER!!!
4.5 miles: Well look at that, my right shin doesn’t hurt anymore. Ok, but I’m starting to get tired. I should really stop at 5 miles. Yes. Shouldn’t run too much too suddenly you know…in case of shin splints. Or you know. Injuries.
5 miles: Five schmive, let’s go for 6! I feel good! I could run forever!! FOREVER!
6 miles: Just passed the 6 mile mark, really near home now, no point stopping.
6.65 miles: Annnnnnnnnnddddddddd that’s a wrap. I am a frigging athlete. I really should consider the marathon (WHAT?!?!?!!?!). I can do anything. I am awesome. It’s world domination now. Try and stop me. Just you try.