Running. It’s not rocket science. Imagine yourself walking. Then imagine yourself moving just a bit faster than this.
Best foot forward, then the other, then again and again, hitting a comfortable tempo on grass, concrete, gravel – any surface will do.
The wonder of running is that it’s tariff free. The contract is with yourself and your inner voice.
You don’t have to join a club; open the front door and the world is your circuit. It may be your street or a park or the open countryside.
It could be anywhere at all that takes your fancy. Feel the air-rush on your face and enjoy the sights while getting fitter.
Every human should have a personal constitution which enshrines the right to go out for a run in hail, rain or shine, night or day no matter when.
Running in Glasgow’s West-End is a joy; horizontal from Scotstoun to Charing Cross, yet a detour from the Clyde or Dumbarton Road will bring you face to face with some serious gradients.
Within this topography there will be a route that can satisfy a gentle jog, preparation for a 10k, as well as half and full marathons.
There are some fine parks in the area, like Dawsholm, lying between the Switchback and Maryhill Road with the Forth and Clyde canal a few strides away. It’s a wooded escape frequented by dog walkers.
My Jack Russell leaps vertically, barking with excitement at the prospect of being let loose among the squirrels,
foxes, the occasional deer and bird life.
I rarely leave the house without him these days. Buddy by name and buddy by nature. He’s been running all his life, eleven years old with a heart murmur reading of 5, on the heart Richter scale of 6, but he’s not quite ready for the quiet life.
Neither am I. I’m un-retired and trying to follow a strict regime of running every day for a year. Join me in 2018 – the year of running relentlessly.