I've been roped into running a 10k race for fun. FUN.
Ok, so I tentatively agreed to this organised torture when a few colleagues asked if I'd be game for taking part in the Nike We Own The Night 10k race for women in May.
I'm definitely in that non-runner demographic, the type of girl who only ever runs for the train, last orders at the bar or Zara before 6pm.
But, actually, real people run every day. There are the crazies who do 10k without breaking a sweat and let's not even go there with the those can't-really-be-human types who do a full 26 miles, London marathon style.
Despite being a running neophyte, I have registered for the *widens eyes* after dark event - and FYI "It's more than just a race. It's a movement" according to the all too sleek sports brand.
In light of this I've put together a list of eight things that happen when you agree to run a marathon (of any variety or distance) for the FIRST TIME:
1. You live in fear every single day afterwards. Self doubt and loathing take over, you're already a shell of your former existence.
2. You know your bladder won't hold out on you (which MUST mean your legs won't either). Visions of Paula Radcliffe squatting become a recurring thing.
3. You contemplate carb loading, those glucose sachets and whether the backpacks with inbuilt straws could potentially fuel you with something besides water or Lucozade. Say, gin or a sick note?
4. You receive your registration number, you've had to tell friends and family (because emergency services will need to contact them) ergo there's no going back.
5. On a good day you dream up positive eventualities: winning the entire race, Ryan Gosling Boris Johnson presenting you with a bottle of Evian afterwards, potentially collaborating with Nike on some new running gear with your name on it...
6. You pretend to know what phrases like: "par two hours", "anaerobic threshold" and "inclined gradient" mean. When all you're really familiar with is "hitting the wall".
7. You suddenly become aware of people around you running EVERYWHERE. Dual carriageways, down the cereal aisle in Waitrose, with pushchairs.
8. You wonder how it might actually feel having achieved something so amazing, knowing that whatever happens it might just be your own personal best.
If you fancy it, there's still time to register for the London race on 10 May. I'm petrified, I'm SO not prepared (read: the stitch is mind-numbing) but I'm doing it.