I remember the first time I attempted a 10 minute mile. I can't remember how long I'd been running, I reckon it would have been a couple of months. I was on a treadmill as at that point I hadn't worked myself up to running in the great outdoors. I set about it not really knowing hat number I needed the still somewhat unfamiliar device to be set at, just upping it until I was going as fast as I could then pushing it until I was sure my legs would fall off and my lungs would burst.
I hit the mile in 10:11, and I still think that was perhaps the slowest 11 seconds of my life. I can't even really remember the first time I hit the 10 minute mile if I'm honest, I wouldn't have thought it would be too long after. But for some reason that one failed attempt really sticks in my mind.
Skip (or run...) forward two and a bit years and I'm just entering the taper period for my second half marathon. I always think a lot while I'm running and my steady three miler around Colwick Park yesterday lunchtime was no exception. As my trainers got going, so did my brain and my thoughts trailed to just how far I've come since those early treadmill days.
Strangely, despite all the long run miles I've put in over the last few weeks in preparation for the upcoming race, it was a short run that made me think a lot about the progress I've made. Yesterday, my little trot around the park made me realise the one mile time I was once so desperate for is now something I class as a 'steady' pace for a short-ish run.
I'm not saying it's easy, but instead of feeling seconds away from cardiac arrest I felt strong and in control and just the right amount of uncomfortable.
I know I'll be running a slower than that round the 13.1 mile route on 24th September... but, thinking about how far I've come makes me all the more excited for where I can still go if I keep pushing!
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