Why I Run

Running's not for squares. I don't wear a spandex body suit. I spit. I stare down cars. I swear at builders. I master the technique of blowing air down one nostril. And, in the fray, I get to think things through.

I've just run. After a tough start, I arrived at the following conclusion: New Year's resolutions don't break.

The classes I teach, which always swell straight after Christmas, have stayed swollen for the third year running. There are even men in them now, right at the back, twice a week and proud. They're not leaving. My mum still gets remedial massage, my aunt refuses to take her mis-prescribed statins. Clients curb their workaholism. Some cycle to work, play sport, drink too much, but feel better. New Year's resolutions don't get broken. It's just a comforting myth. When we feel crap, we change our habits. When we change our habits, we keep them changed.

This is why I run.

Client of the Week

It's been a tough fortnight. Mis-spent cash, mis-placed jokes, merciless mothers, Schindler's List, sausage meat and a glass of Merlot spilt on the Bravia. Weeks like this, it's a challenge to dedicate time to your ham-strings.




Meriel. You did this.




Even though you had an extended family to look after. Even though your conscience was in constant, boozy turmoil. Even though your husband had fallen prey to a geneaology addiction, you still found the time to come and get some Ednacises happening on your calfs. That's dedication.




Meriel. You are client of the week.