I'm usually not one for New Year resolutions.
Who needs the added pressure of a year of being accountable to something you said you'd do at 11.45 on the 31st of December, after one too many raspberry lemonades anyway?
Somehow, through a combination of peer pressure and doctors' orders, I've been convinced to run at least two kilometres a day for the remainder of the year. It was like a ''buy 11 months, get the 12th free'' deal, so I took January as a free month and have committed from here on out. I used to run, I think I used to enjoy it, but the thought process of a returning runner is an interesting one.
Let me ''run'' you through a typical 2km in my head.
For the first few hundred metres it's a positive time — "Wow, this is pretty good! I'm not as unfit as I thought I was! I could run a half marathon this year, maybe even a full!" — but around the 500-metre mark the wheels start to wobble.