That wasn't a euphemism, by the way.
Went on my first non-track outing with the running club I've recently forced myself upon - Run4All Neath, and it's knocked me for six. I'm shattered!
I ran six miles, which I've done before, but not at that speed. And to top it off, "that speed" was nowhere near that of the small cluster of older (than me - not sure by how much, am a pants judge of age) ladies we'd (my friend James and I) randomly followed in a blind panic.
"Shit, they're moving! Quick, follow someone!!"
I would have ended up lost and forlorn in the middle of Neath - an area I've only ever really visited when A and I have been on the business end of several pints - if it weren't for James. He kept his pace way slower than he's capable of (wasn't bloody slow for me!!) to make sure I didn't get mugged/knock myself out on a lamp post.
Poor sod. I think I owe him a drink.
Point is, I'm glad I went. I pushed myself to the best of my ability and not a single person teased me or moaned about my obvious lack of horse power(If I was a car, I'd be that one off the Flintstones that everyone has to power with their feet). And lots of people commended me on how well I'd done, even if what I'd done was something they could have done whilst tranquillized and wearing a suit made of thick, wet wool.
I only wish I'd manned up and joined a running club sooner.
There's very little option for you to duck out mid-run when everyone around you is soldiering on, and so you're forced to push yourself a little harder than you would have done if you were alone. And no matter your ability, you are unconditionally applauded for your efforts by people who are just being lovely for the sake of being lovely and supportive. Not out of a sense of duty.
Lovely, lovely, lovely. Runners are a wonderful folk. Everyone should have one!
Seriously, though, should my sides be aching this much? That one's new...