There’s no good reason you should have to select a photo post type and then drag it in.
Today I ran my first half-marathon. It might even be my last, but I did it. I signed up to run it 13 months ago when I could just about manage to run 5km (AKA 3 miles) but even that was a struggle.
For those of you who know me personally, you’ll know I’ve never been the athletic type, (I love pizza and curry too much for a start) so the thought of doing this, even up until a week or so ago, was actually kinda ridiculous.
Aside from the pressing need to get vaguely in shape and do something about my expanding waistline and decreasing ability to get up the stairs without being short of breath, I knew I wanted to run and raise money for Cancer Research UK.
I’ve written pretty extensively in various places over the last two days about my relationship with cancer and how’s it’s inspired me to run the Bournemouth half, save to say that people were kind enough to donate £385 to a good cause. If that was you, thank you.
I don’t want to go on about this forever because my achievement isn’t really that important to anyone beyond myself and my immediate friends and family, but there is a moral to this ridiculous little story.
When I started training I weighed nearly 16 stone and I don’t weigh a great deal less now, I still eat takeaways on occasion and I definitely don’t train as often as I should, I’ve even still got a bit of a belly to prove it. The thing is, though, I did it. And so can you. Fuck worrying about the shape you’re in and commit to something a year from now, give yourself a motivation (personal, charitable, or both) and crack on. You’ll do it.
I wish someone had told me that. So here it is. A cheesy sentiment with a permalink to keep 4ever. Go!
I don’t talk to myself. It’s so much more than that. I pretend to listen to other people talking and react to that, too