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So just to check the ankle was working okay, I did half a mile on the treadmill at jog/walk/faster jog which only took 5 minutes. So I think I’m getting faster, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Todays lesson: if you want a quick reality check, and a bit of a kick up the bum, look at London Marathon clips on YouTube. I can’t wait to run tonight, and when I feel tired and my legs are heavy and I want to stop, I’m going to remember that in April I have to keep on going for 26.2 miles, leaden legs and all.

‘I am one of the 63336′ seems to be my most common search term at the moment. I am, but only when not running.

Talking of which, as my ankle is having a holiday, I’m off to do some work.

Started with a five minute gentle jog, then I did run 2 minutes, walk 1 minute for almost an hour on 1% incline, finishing with a couple of minutes run on a 5% incline. It was amazing. I’ve been reading about running styles and I had a feeling that if I could get out of the heelstriking habit I’d be able to solve the whole pain in the shins, legs giving up before I ran out of breath problem.

I ran the whole thing landing on my forefoot, and I felt a million times lighter, which isn’t bad going for someone who is about as far from a runner in physique as it’s possible to be. I’ve noticed before when Jessica runs she sort of floats along (Jessica is now going to comment and say something disparaging about herself, I predict) and I think that’s partly down to the fact that she is a forefoot runner. Oh, and partly down to the fact that she probably weighs about half what I do.
This is all a bit inarticulate because I’m so excited about how easy it was tonight compared to any other run, and because it was so good I want to bounce up and down squeaking with glee. That doesn’t translate very well to the written word though, so just imagine it.

I am one of the 63336.

Our first ever tv advert aired today. It’s very exciting. Now I’m off to hit the treadmill, because it’s 3C out there and I am a girly wuss who should be ashamed to call myself Scottish and I don’t like the cold.

Today: 3.7 miles

In public.

With running trousers on.

In the middle of the day.

Today was groundbreaking stuff. I ran with Paula, who is sneakily fitter than she lets on, due to her strange habit of using the time when her smallest one is at preschool with my smallest one to go and do Body Combat classes at the gym. I on the other hand prefer to relax in the nearest coffee shop and eat a bacon sandwich on the pretext of doing the Christmas shopping.  I can write this safe in the knowledge that Mr Marathonmummy never reads my blog, probably because he has to live with my incessant witterings on a daily basis, and has done for nearly 15 years.

Anyway, back to running. So up the hill we went, walking because we were warming up and not because the hill is hideous at all. Run run run, walk walk walk, run run run, walk walk walk. Onto the main road which has a footpath but also has lorries and things driving past at 60mph. Note to self: slightly short, loose fitting t-shirt + backdraft from lorries = bit of an eyeful for the following cars. I ended up having to jog along holding the hem of my top to avoid scaring the drivers. Run run, walkwalkwalkwalkwalkwalkchatchat, oops this isn’t marathon trainingrunrunrun, up a hill (vomit), down a hill (clever trick from P: lengthen stride slightly to avoid hideous jarring feeling, and it works), run run run. Passed whilst running by someone we know, so we have proof it really happened, then home for water, stretching, cups of tea and oh the absolute bliss of a hot bath in the middle of the day. Thank goodness for preschoolers who still have an afternoon nap.

Paula: Right, shall we run when we get to that post?

Me: Yes, good idea.

(post passes>

Paula: We’re still not running, have you noticed?

Me: But we’re thinking about running. That counts, doesn’t it?

So this week’s mileage is 13.6. Hooray for me, and for lovely running chums, and for all the moral support from people telling me they think I must be mad but well done.

I’m back home now with what I now know is called DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness, aka my legs are killing me). We did the same 5k route yesterday morning, but ate something an hour beforehand – and managed to do it a couple of minutes faster! Yay us. We even did a couple of 30 second faster bits (runs, not jogs) and we both agreed it was so lovely to have moral support. Can’t wait to see Jessica, and do some running with her too!

Getting out in the fresh air makes me realise that whilst the treadmill is great, there’s far more pleasure in being outside in the countryside, even when it’s raining like it did yesterday.