This is the third day of my training for the GX 5k fun run. The goal is to raise money to help to find a cure for cystic fibrosis. The secondary goal is for me to get fit and lose a bit of weight. This necessarily entails a whole range of subsidiary goals, like getting through the day without eating my son’s left-over Easter eggs or convincing myself that running to the Tesco Metro for a flake is a good exercise in calorie off-setting.
So here goes. I would like to say we were late for school because of all of Jensen’s medical treatments. But I would be lying. We were late because the lazy little tike wouldn’t get up. Physio was administered in situ under his duvet.
This running has a couple of unexpected benefits though. First, Jensen is keen to race me to school. Secondly, it should, in theory, allow me to make a sharp exit and to escape from the shame of being habitually and incorigibly late. Useful on a day like today when I had to retrieve the bag of wet tracksuit and underpants, which I should have picked up Friday, from his coat peg.
Besides, I have this hope that building exercise into my daily routine will work where expensive gyms have failed (I relinquished my membership of the Oasis because I spent more time in the bar with a protein smoothy watching East Enders than in the gym itself).
Three days in and, though it’s too early to tell, it seems to be working. From school, I ran back down Amersham Hill and through the graveyard (by which time I was walking, out of respect to the dead you understand). Home in twenty minutes and it was at least an hour before I went downstairs to make a cup of tea and to lick the crumbs of banana bread off Jensen’s plate. Long may it continue and sustain me through lunch and beyond.