I’m not really one for lists, they are too restrictive, too orderly. They require action to be taken, boxes to be ticked, some sort of obedience, all of which goes against the grain. My shopping list says ‘something for tea’, then ‘x 5’, I leave the other two days to chance. We’ve never starved. Yet.
But for ten weeks and ten weeks only, I’m living by a list, a list that will help me run my first half marathon, without dying or breaking anything. As we say in Yorkshire, I may be green, but I’m not cabbage-looking, which means I’m prepared to put up with lists and obedience if it makes sense, and according to everything I’ve read or been told, when it comes to running 13 miles in this old body, it definitely makes sense.
Over seven days I have to do five things, most of it running different distances, but one is going up and down hills. I get two rest days and, bonus of bonuses, because I’m spending more calories, I have free cake, cake that doesn’t go straight to my thighs.
I had to insist on making my own list with hand-drawn gridlines and stickers to record activity or achievements as I like to call them. It’s smartened up the fridge no end and I quite like the way the grid is filling up with stickers.
So roll on October 21, the Bridlington Half Marathon, the last day on the list. Then it’s back to listlessness.