My first running sessions had been done in private, on a treadmill, well out of sight of anyone. As a reward for being brave enough to go out running on the roads, I bought myself a cheap sports watch so I would know when to alternate my minutes of running and walking. It was either that, or keep on carrying the kitchen timer! The thought of being seen running at all was embarrassing enough. For someone to spot me with the timer would have ended my running career before it started.
It was my birthday during the week, which luckily fell on a rest day. A bad reaction to an insect bite on my foot meant I could barely walk anyway, so I spent the day in the garden being waited on by my lovely family. I made this my weekly treat – a whole day doing nothing but reading, writing and generally pottering about.
Going out for a run the next day was a bit difficult, but it was amazing how much better I felt once I made the effort and got out into the fresh air – and drizzle, which was fast becoming a fixture in my running life!