Today I managed my first pre-work run of the year. It was short and sweet (15 min out and back), but the village at 6.30 felt really spring-like and full of promise. And it was only the third pre-work run that I’ve planned this year, so that’s a bonus.

It’s been a funny old week. Following on from last Tuesday’s success, I was going to go out on Thursday after work, but had a much better offer of calling round at my sister’s and admiring my niece’s sitting skills. She’s just turned 6 months and I think the novelty of this will wear off for me by the time she’s about, oooh, 17.

I didn’t feel bad about prioritising a game of row row row your boat (upper body workout anyone?) because she’s gorgeous and I could always go out on Friday. This was an excellent plan scuppered only by the man who drove into the back of me on my way to work, rendering my car undrivable. The planned run was therefore replaced by an endless loop of hold music, claims handlers and fending off enquiries about my potential whiplash injuries.

I’m pleased to report that the incident has caused me no injuries, despite the best efforts of a particular customer service department (can you get whiplash from banging your head against a brickwall?). I’m fine and dandy, just terrified of damaging my replacement vehicle which is newer, shinier and vrooooomier than my usual car.

Did 3.3 miles tonight as a sort of group run, it wasn’t a club run, but it was nice not to have to think about where I was going. One thing I love about guided runs is that you sometimes do routes that you would normally avoid and it can surprise you. Tonight’s took me on a route that I’ve considered before, but chickened out of because it seems too undualating. Turns out I can do it after all!

Oh yes, I’ve done some actual running. I say running, it’s my usual putting one foot in front of the other at a faster speed than my walking pace, but ‘running’ is quicker to type. The wheezing snotfest has cleared up, but did mean that I missed my group run a week last Tuesday (going for runs while off sick is bad form I believe) and also yoga on Wednesday (when I got home, I tried doing downward dog and was rewarded with  whooshing pounding sensation in my skull, so I slept for 3 hours instead). In the end, I had a week off (hard to distinguish from my normal weeks I know) and went back to club running on Tuesday, which was a short session that hurt my lungs and added to a general sense of antisocial grumpiness that day. It was also snowing again as I left work, so it was a miracle that I didn’t come up with some excuse to skive.

I took advantage of being off work on Thursday and did a 3 mile out and back (turning right at the front door), which has been a standard route for me since I started this lark but one that I’ve had a mental block on for months – I just don’t seem to be able to get back without walking. This remained true on Thursday. Bah.

Sunday morning saw me down the canal – it was bitterly cold and grey. Most of the ducks remained asleep with their heads tucked under their wings, those that did venture into the water looked shocked and miserable when they hit the freezing depths. I also saw what I think was a moorhen flying. The suspected moorhen was a round, solid-looking creature that certainly isn’t designed for graceful flight. It was a slow, laboured, optimistic flapping that eventually propelled it across the road. It reminded me of me.

And then March started. Finally, a glimpse of sunshine on Monday morning (followed by an afternoon of  fat blobby snowfall) and a run in daylight this evening. It was lovely. Still quite slow, but it’s the first time in ages that I’ve actually felt good whilst out running and I did 4 miles quite happily. Oh, and I turned right at the front door and went there and back without walking, so that’s that demon laid to rest.

My only complaint is about my new pair of 3/4 length running tights. I say 3/4 length, it would appear that my left leg likes this length, but my right leg prefers knee length. I look like more of an idiot than normal, but having said that, they’re better than my full length version, which have been designed for a giraffe-like freak woman; If I wear them in a non-Simon Cowell position they cover my feet, if I hitch them up I become Queen of the Cameltoe. I may have to invest in some stilts.