After I managed to make it all the way round my local park (see above) at the start of this month, James and I set a new challenge: to make it twice round the park. According to James, who's googled the info, twice round the park is somewhere just over a mile – a distance that would have seemed impossible a couple of months ago, when twice round the tennis court brought me out in a fit of wobbles.
So, after the triumph of one lap of the park, the new target was set, and James' reckoning was that I should get there in about six weeks' time, which would have taken us to the middle of May.
Last night, however, I had dinner with Jon, one of my oldest friends, who was telling me that he went out running last weekend for the first time in living memory and managed to keep up with some country friends of his, regular runners, for an hour – although he did say they were very kind with their pace-setting. I still don't know how he managed it; by my reckoning an hour's running, even at its most gentle, must cover about five miles, a distance that would give me a heart attack or heat stroke, whichever came first.
But Jon's account of his weekend run did make me feel challenged, so I prised myself out of bed (a challenge in itself, for some reason my bed seemed ultra-comfortable this morning) and went out to the park, determined to make it round at least a lap and a half. I did better than that, though – I made it round twice. I feel knackered, but I also feel really pleased with myself, and that's a good feeling.
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