“You can do it, let’s go!”
“Shut up, Laura.”
“You’re doing so great!”
“Your husband left you because you’re a bitch, Laura.”
“You’ve done so well, keep going!”
“I’m gonna punch you in the face, Laura.”
I just went for my first ever run. By ‘first ever run’ I mean my first proper adult run that didn’t involve getting changed into loose shiny P.E. shorts and a sweaty P.E. polo shirt that I forgot to ask my mum to wash over the weekend. Nor did it involve hiding behind the tree at the back of the school field waiting for the others to do an extra lap before I pretended I was tagging along the whole time, or running into a bin because it’s a foggy Monday morning in December but the teachers are made of stone (so was the bin) and made us do cross-country anyway, and gaining an impressive scar that unbeknownst to my 14 year old self, I would look back on fondly during my first ever adult run.
Laura is my running pal. She only exists in my earphones. And I hate her. She’s a bitch. She’s so cool and calm and acts like EVERYTHING IS FINE EVEN THOUGH YOU CAN’T BREATHE AND YOU JUST TROD IN HORSE SHIT AND THE WHITE VAN MEN ARE BEEPING AT YOU BECAUSE OF COURSE I LOOKED LIKE I WAS IN BAYWATCH.

Steady.
She told me to go for a brisk walk for five minutes, which was easy enough. You can listen to your music along with having the app open, and Laura just turns it down when she needs to talk to you. Much like your mum walking into your room without knocking. When my five minutes was nearly up, Laura told me to run for one minute. “Easy,” I thought, “One minute is a tiny amount of time.”
So I ran. Quite fast. I had the energy, so why not? I’m a good runner. I’m also a cocky little shit. Laura told me to keep a slow pace but fuck the system. TECHNOLOGY WILL NOT CONTROL ME. BACK IN YOUR CAGE, LAURA.
It bloody hurt.
I now understand why I should have slowed down.
You win, Laura.
During the first week of Couch to 5K, you spend 20 minutes doing intervals of 60 seconds of running and then 90 seconds recovering with a brisk walk. It sounds simple enough, but if you’re not a fitness kinda gal or pal, then it’s tough and you need to BEHAVE. I have learnt my lesson.

I feel good though. I feel really good! I’ve surprised myself, I’m proud of my body, and I’m even MORE proud of my mind for sticking with me and behaving itself.
And Laura? I have a feeling we’ll be enemies for a while, but I sense an impending friendship. Shh, don’t tell her though.
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