I’m not a jogger- and never have been!!

I’m not a jogger- and never have been!! At school I hated it- be it sprinting, the killer 400 meters or the dreaded cross country (until a group of us realised that we could take a short cut and hop on a bus back to the school). As I got older I would watch in amazement at the people happily running round parks, roads and the running track in the park. I couldn’t quite figure out why anyone would actually choose to inflict this particular pain on themselves. The one day some bright spark at my son’s football club decided that we should have a sponsored run- for the parents. After picking myself up from the floor, and thinking in my head of how I could get out of it I heard a little voice saying- ” My Mums a great runner and she’s going to beat your Mum”, and yes it was my wonderfully misguided trusting 6 yr old son. Seen the film ‘Run fat boy Run’- it was more ‘Run fat Mum run’!! The first few days were absolute torture, round the block felt like the London Marathon and falling onto the sofa afterwards felt like bliss. I persevered and slowly it all became bearable- I won’t say I enjoyed it because that would be lying- but I got through it. Come the day of the Sponsored run and the parents were all on the line ready for the off. My 6yr olds smiling face and brave brave words of “come on Mum” gave me a bit of a lift. The whistle blew and we were off- 4 laps of what seemed like a never ending vast area of the park later and I came in a respectable 2^nd of the Mums ( after someone who wasn’t’ even a Mum- a ringer of a neighbour who was 22 and an aerobics teacher!!). Collapsed on the floor attempting to breathe, face a violent magenta colour and enough sweat to swim in was not the best moment for me to be in a ‘group photo’. So now as I leisurely do my Wi Fit yoga I stare at the photo on the shelf at the shiny, purple faced lady and breathe a sigh of relief that exercise is now something I have confined to my home!!.