I can’t remember the first time I ever ran, or come to think of it running in general in terms of my childhood or adolescence, maybe that’s why I got fat in the first place. I danced as a kid, just can’t recall running…I’m sure I ran to the sweet shop from time to time though.
My first real memory of running as an adult was in fact a race, well it was a 3k fun run around Beckton Park, as part of a council run fit club. I was probably in my mid twenties and working for the council at the time and thought it would be a good way of showing I was part of the team.
I remember the shock after starting way too fast and the pain that I could feel in my windpipe as I struggled to breath. I soon slowed down, in fact I started walking as soon as I got beyond the trees where fewer people could see me. I was hot, my head was pounding and I was only a quarter of the way round. I stop started for another few minutes in the relative safety of the woods, and then as soon as I could be seen again I jogged with the majority of the other runners cheering me on at the finishing line.
After receiving my finishing medal and posing for a group photo I went home triumphant and that was it I was hooked, and the rest is history.
I think it took me 33 minutes or so to finish that 3k, my time has improved slightly since, I’ve still held on to the sense of shame about walking though… I don’t think I will ever loose that.