That's me on an early training run in Byron Bay when I weighed over 100 kg.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

9 Months

Tonight I had a flashback: a few years ago a friend invited me to join her on an Annandale to ANZAC Bridge circuit run. I immediately and irrefutably declined. At the time it seemed an incomprehensible challenge. I could not propel my 110 kilogram bulk to jog even a couple of kilometres. I'd be puffed just walking up a moderate hill. I was in awe of her running ability, and had lost all hope in mine.

View to Sydney Harbour Bridge from ANZAC Bridge

Tonight, I breezed around exactly the same 9.5 kilometre circuit. It has only been 9 months since I commenced running regularly. First for just a few hundred meters, then a kilometre, then two ... Now, I can knock out a 10 kilometre run after work and barely break a sweat. It feels so easy. This, I thought to myself, is pretty damn amazing.

And what a pleasure running is, on so many levels. The feeling of lightness and springiness in my body. Being out in the crisp winter night's air. The view of the city lights reflected onto the black, mirror-smooth water. The energy pulsing through my veins. The Who Live at Leeds pulsing through my ear buds.

Thank you running. I feel reborn.


  1. omg - I want to get back on the bike now. Running isn't for me, but I know the feeling.

  2. I hear you! Last december when I started running I could only get about 400 metres before stopping and wanting to die, and having DOMS for days afterwards. Six months later I'm going in 8km races (albeit still quite slow) and training for a half marathon.

    Every fitness gain has been won step by step, and it's so rewarding to look back and realise how far we've come.


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