You may’ve already guessed it from the subtle post title, but I ran today. Not such a big deal, you’re thinking, after all, she is a personal trainer. I can’t argue with your logic, but I’m also the least running-est personal trainer you’ll ever meet, and have often found during the first three minutes of any flavour of running (treadmill, or the real kind) I get an overwhelming urge to a) be violently ill, b) stop running because I am highly bored or c) drink some water. Recently, I’ve been training a rather fabulous young woman named Tams, and coercing (forcing) her to run faster and longer than she has before. She’s turning into a machine, and watching her ability change has inspired me to coerce (force) myself to run more regularly.

Usually I keep my speed at about 11k, which means I can run for about 8-9 minutes without stopping. Today, I started at 11.5k, then jacked it up to 12k until the 9 minute mark, then 13k for the last minute. I knew I was working hard when I could hear heavy breathing through my headphones and realised it was mine. I walked for a minute, then ran at 12k for another 6 minutes. Rereading this makes me feel totally tragic for recalling all that detail, but I’m a personal trainer, remember?

Once I took part in a fun run. It was a lot of years ago, in fact, pre Miss M - a period of my life which seems like it never existed. I still question the first part of the title, as there was no “fun” included. Sure I hadn’t trained, and sure I was running with someone who was a really good runner (who had trained), but somehow I expected it to be a lot easier. I’d also like to add I was still working in television then, so the concept of running was limited to making it to the front of the canteen line to get the best chips before some fat actor beat you to it. In a particularly cruel twist, photographs were taken of participants as they crossed the finish line … let’s just say my only words were “burn the evidence”.

So it comes as a nice surprise that when I’m a few minutes into it my stride is comfortable, I can’t hear my feet hitting the treadmill as I run (soft is good), and if my shuffle deigns to play any song by Rage Against The Machine, I can push myself further and harder than I thought. Plus, teaching yoga later in the day is the most perfect foil to running I could ever think of.

Today I’m loving: the aforementioned all-girl yoga class … and these pics (sorry, I just couldn’t help myself!)
Under instruction from Miss MMy second try