My urban jungle

I told you about my efforts with 'the running' a few weeks back. Well, it continues. I've been incredibly self-motivated (well, spending half your mortgage payment on running gear helps with the motivation) and have stuck to my MapMyRun training plan.

Two weeks ago, Joleen sent me an email at work asking if I fancied going to Inverness to do a 5K with her and some of her friends from work on October 5th. "Yeah, I'd be up for that." Jo sent me the link and I looked over all the info. But when it came to it, I just couldn't sign myself up. Inverness? I'm not going all that way just to pick up a chicken. So I (foolishly) signed myself up for the 10K and immediately felt nauseous.

Having only 5 weeks to train - and having only started running 3 weeks ago - I'm not feeling optimistic. I don't even know if I can run for an hour yet, never mind trying to complete 10K in that time. Needless to say, the training plan has been ramped up a bit. 3.5K on alternate weeknights with a longer run on the Sunday.

It's a bit of an urban jungle where I live. Last week, I ran round the corner and had to hurdle 2 televisions. On another occasion - but on the same street - I was attacked by a West Highland terrier. I was just running along the street, as usual, and there were two women standing chatting. I noticed that one of the women had a Westie on a lead and another standing beside her without a lead. As I got closer, I could see the unleashed Westie barking at me (I couldn't hear because I had the 'pod on - Great DJ by the Ting Tings). Then it started running towards me. When it reached me, it started head-butting my legs like it was trying to trip me up. It was totally surreal.

There was one great moment though, as I was running downhill with 'All these things that I've done' propelling me to greatness, a big fat guy came out of a shop. He was wearing a grey hoodie and - get this - emblazoned across the front of it was my surname! How cool is that? Totally uncool is the fact that I started grinning like an idiot and 'the commentator' started speaking inside my head. 'The crowds have come out to cheer her on. They're wearing her name on their clothing. It's a great atmosphere, with all this support she can't fail.' I'm such a saddo.

Three Sundays ago was my first attempt at 5K. I managed it in 29 minutes, which wasn't bad at all. Although, finishing by running up Easter Road was not a particularly good idea.

On the Wednesday, I went out on my 3.5K and was gutted to have to stop at 3K. It wasn't much more to run but I just couldn't do it. I got into the flat and felt really dizzy then I remembered that I'd donated a pint of blood to the NHS that day and perhaps running wasn't very sensible. On Friday, it was a miserable night (made more so by the delay on the magazine and the comments from the Chief Exec that my writing was 'pish') so I stayed in and happily made my way through a bottle of Campo Viejo Reserva. That meant I had to make up for it on the Saturday. I headed out at 10am and finished the route in a decent time (despite being stopped by a woman looking for Albion Place and Lochend Road). However, when I got into the flat - I immediately felt awful. I managed to get my trainers and socks off, and splash my face with cold water before throwing up. I got really bad stomach cramps and continued to vomit before curling myself into a ball on the bathroom floor racked by cold sweats. I drank plenty of water, popped some paracetamol and lay down on the bed. I woke up half an hour later and felt great. How very bizarre.

For the last two Sundays I've managed 6.5K and then 7.5K. Tomorrow it's 8.5K. My 5K route that I do now feels like a walk in the park. Last Saturday, I walked out my front door just before 9am and was ready to set off. I noticed a couple crossing the road and as I got closer I recognised the woman as someone I used to work with. She was getting a kiss from the guy and was clearly wearing Friday night's dress and hair. When I knew her, she was married and this wasn't her husband. I thought: "Ah, please don't turn around and see me cause you'll be embarrassed." Then I remembered that I was the one wearing Lycra. "Ah!" I bolted and managed to set my quickest time yet - 26 minutes.