Week 4 Day 1

You know when you get a bad feeling about something and you just can't shake it? That's how I'd felt in the build-up to today. You see, this week of the programme is something of a step-up from the previous weeks. For example, this week is the first week where you actually do more running than walking (excluding warm-up and cool-down) and the total amount of running time jumps from 9 minutes to 16. From what I've heard on the various forums that I subscribe to about C25K, weeks 4 and 5 seem to be the ones where most people decide that they were obviously deluded when they made the decision to start running and decide to go back to the couch!

So when I woke up at 5.30 this morning with a sniffle I thought "great, just my luck". I made it out of bed, though, and thought that I should just get on with it; get out of the door, get moving, and see what happened. The warm-up walk was good and I felt nice and loose, and I was fairly optimistic when I started the first 3-minute interval. I was still optimistic at the end of it as well; it was at the end of the recovery walk that it all changed. I actually felt a little upset when Robert Ullrey (that's the guy who made a podcast, set to music, with all the timings for the C25K programme - see http://www.ullreys.com/robert/Podcasts/page4/files/category-7.html for more details) told me that I had to start running again. It just didn't seem long enough, and it didn't seem fair.

Undaunted, however, I set off on the first 5-minute interval and really struggled. The slight sniffle turned into a "snot-er-fall" which really affected my breathing, and my muscles were not happy. I made it to the end, somehow, and then it hit me that I had to repeat the entire process. I think that was the closest I've come to quitting. I'm not sure if it was momentum or just sheer bloody-mindedness, but I resolved just to keep moving. By the time Robert announced there was one minute to go in the last 5-minute interval I was sure I could go no further. I had to keep challenging and cajoling myself that if I could make it just as far as the next lamp-post or road sign that I would make it. I'm also sure, by the way, that Robert Ullrey counts two seconds for every one.

Anyway, I made it, and I couldn't stop myself shouting "Yes!!" and punching the air when I'd finished (much to the chagrin of the old guy who was walking his dog just metres away). It was such a great feeling to feel so crap and still achieve something, and to know that I had set a precedent. Doing it all over again on Wednesday doesn't feel nearly so scary.