A few years ago when I started jogging for the first time I found it hard to push myself to go faster and run for longer. If right now you’re envisioning me breezing swiftly along on a lycra-clad, 5k morning run, please stop. In reality, I was (and still am) a soft-around-the-edges, asthmatic who has never jogged for more than 20 mins straight in my life. I used to daydream quite a lot while I ran and I once let it slip to a friend that to push myself harder I imagined that I was in a race and that my child was there watching, encouraging me to go on. Hil-bloody-arious. Never lived it down. A few weeks later my friend dreamt I had a little girl who I named Gladys (!) and ever since then i’ve been “RUNNING FOR GLADYS!”
I thought of this today when Munchkin and I went along to Holyrood Palace and stumbled upon the Edinburgh Half Marathon. Yes, i’m so on the pulse of what’s going on in this city. I had planned a quiet picnic and instead was met with lots of sweat, panting and Lucozade. I’d never been to a race before and I had quite a strange and embarrassing reaction. I started crying… I think what did it was the crowd clapping and cheering support to the runners passing by, it just got me. Luckily, it’s quite easy to hide a soggy face when you’re clutching a toddler, so we wandered through the crowds and then had a good walk around Arthur’s Seat.
Check out the view as I “walked for Noah!”…
(top pic by this clever fellow)