Today was the day that hundreds of people took to the streets of Edinburgh to do The Great Edinburgh Run. Congratulations! Hat’s off! A huge achievement.
Today is also the day that I am hanging my head in shame as I christen myself The Great Edinburgh Bum. And when I say ‘great’ I don’t mean ‘excellent’ I mean ‘great’ as in you ‘great big hairy daftie’. I committed to do it. And didn’t.
I imagine you are probably less surprised than even me.
But as usual, I genuinely thought this time would be different. it started when I watched as my friends shrank into tight fitting jogging clothes, glowed with health and bumping their gums about how the felt marvellous. This caused the revelation that running was the answer. So I got together with an equally keen pal and we embarked on the training sheet.
Monday 1 minute walk, 1 minute run for 20 minutes. Even that was hell to be honest. But we did it.
Then 2 days later we graduated to the 2 minute walk and 2 minute. That was also hell. No really, when I say hell I mean HELL.
So at this point you will either be thinking ‘lazy useless unfit wheezagram’ or ‘yeh I know what you mean’. It seems the world is divided into those that do and those that don’t. Those that want to and those who definitely don’t and in my defence – because obviously I have to have one – those who have big boobs and find running akin to hoisting a pair of tattie sacks from the top of their rib cage and those who have small, wee, controllable fun bags – the small booberoos.
So today I do feel guilty. Annoyed. Embarrassed and of course unfit. So berate me if you will. I am.
However, I am meeting someone tomorrow as I head off into the new regime. Well when I say ‘new regime’ what I really mean ‘a regime’ as opposed to no regime at all. So this new fangled, muscle twanger? Pilates. Yup. I have heard about it and never tried it.
Watch this space……………I can feel a honing coming on.