To Begin at the Beginning

ImageI’m posting this after my first run of 2013, a gentle 4-miler around Roath Park Lake and playing fields. It was wet, miserable and mild. The weather didn’t have the common courtesy to be cold. 

I decided to start this blog for two reasons: to keep me motivated as I train for my second Marathon and hopefully as an aid to help me raise money for Get Kids Going – the charity I’m running for. 

After running my first marathon in London last year, I swore blind I would never do another one. After running 26 miles, I expected the last few yards to be a breeze, an absolute blast, joy, relief… and all the rest. It wasn’t. It was horrible. It wasn’t until I actually crossed the line that I really believed I was going to finish. Never again.

Until now… a few things happened since then. First, the Olympics. Wow. I don’t think Seb had men in their mid-30s in mind when he talked about inspiring a generation – well tough. It did inspire me. Almost as much as what happened next – the Paralympics. I ran the 2012 Marathon to raise money for Get Kids Going, but it wasn’t until after the Games that I realised the charity had supported David Weir to get his first ever specialised sports wheelchair. That would be four-time gold medallist, David Weir. That gave me an extra spur to do the Marathon for charity again, even if I couldn’t get a place on the ballot. 

Now, not everyone who benefits from the support of Get Kids Going will win gold medals, but they will get a chance to play sport. And anyone who loves sport knows what that means – it means fun, fitness, exhilaration, not to mention a sense of inclusion, team-work – even fulfilling your dreams.

Right now, I have one simple dream, and that is to stay fit until I reach the finish line sometime on April 21st. Easier said than done, my calf muscles hate me. They hate running. They even hate Christmas. I have the nastiest, most miserable calf muscles in the western hemisphere.

There’s a few other things that persuaded me to try and run again in 2013, but I’ll leave them for now.  

And on that note, I bid you adieu, along with today’s vital statistics: 

Run: 4 miles round Roath, decent pace, miserably wet, left calf muscle angry.

Spotted: a crazy motorist trying to overtake in a traffic congested 30mph zone; kids on Christmas scooters scoffing ice-cream in the rain; a fellow jogger having terrible ipod trouble.

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