I may have mentioned that I'm running a half marathon - my first - in October (cue gasps of surprise), and it's been a cool but slightly weird few months because I've been able to legitimately say that those limpy, t-rex armed gallops I do three to five times a week is actual training for something.
Of course, some days I hate it and some days it makes me feel like an actual superhero with powers and a cape and shit (especially if I have my jacket tied around my waist - fanny caaape!). But there is still a worm of doubt that occasionally slips its way into my head and tells me that despite the fact that I can now run nearly twelve miles without dropping dead, I'm still too slow and always will be too slow to call myself a "real runner". That everything and everyone is faster than me.
But that's not true now, is it? And this is why I am making myself compile a list of ten things I am faster than. To comfort me and to squish the bad-vibes worm that's keeping itself warm in my grey matter. Enjoy and take heed that you are probably faster than most, if not all of these things too while you are running/walking/dragging yourself along the concrete by your fingernails:
1. James May off of Top Gear.
2. Anyone sat down chewing on their cud in front of the TV while you're doing whatever it is you do.
4. Future you - the one with the bus pass and a purse full of Murray Mints.
Mmmm... Murray Mints.
5. Alternative reality future you where you stopped participating in physical activity and decided to get obese and wheezy off of a regime of sitting around under piles of burgers and pizza. She probably has crippling arthritis, bad skin and a weird smell that even her rucksack full of Murray Mints can't mask while she's taking up two seats and part of the aisle on the bus.
6. Kids that haven't learned to walk yet. Those losers.
7. Zombies. But only the old, shuffly kind - before all the remakes with all the sprinting. Hollywood's out to make me feel bad nowadays. Obviously.
8. The thought processes of those people who creep around supermarkets, slack-jawed and obliviously sliding directly in front of people's faces as they browse, leaving their victims with nostrils full of stranger hair and the kind of pent up aggression that has them grieving for hours over the fact that they didn't just straight up nut them in the fucking skull.
10. A wall.
There. Don't we all feel better now?
Nah, me neither. Still. I'll be "running" the Cardiff Half Marathon, and if you're going along and also feel intimidated by the professionalism and athleticism of the other attendees, please feel free to seek me out. I will probably have mints and you are guaranteed to beat at least one person on the day!
p.s This is a good article from Women's Running on the topic of finishing last and why it matters naff all. Much better than all the stuff I just made you read to get to this bit. Sorry. Here you go: