Here I am, 4pm on a Saturday afternoon, in my jim-jams, refusing to go back outside today after I braved a -3°, 33mph headwind on my first training run since before Christmas. Not sure why I thought today was a good day to start running again, but with less than 11 weeks to go until the Edinburgh Marathon, I thought it was about time I did something, and it can only get better from now on right??

‘What a hero!’, you must be thinking, running in those conditions and training for a marathon. We’ll just to clear a few things up, I ran a whole mile and a half before sacking it off as a bad idea. And the marathon… we’ll not a whole one, just 1/4 of the relay. And not even really a whole quarter; while my team mates are doing 8 miles each through the long and winding Lothian countryside, I’m doing the last 4 1/2 downhill miles to cross the finish line, claim all the glory, then stumble three minutes home to the comfort of my sofa. I even have a Prosecco station set up at 4 1/4 miles just to get me round that last corner to the adoration of the waiting crowds!

You might have gathered that I’m not born to run! So how did I get myself into this situation? One of my good Mum-chums is a midwife at the hospital where I had my two gorgeous girls, and there is a hundred-strong squad of runners from Team Simpson’s running in the various events of the Edinburgh Marathon Festival. They are raising money for SANDs Lothian’s who provide support to grieving parents after the loss of a baby through stillbirth or neo-natal loss. So when she said that one of their relay teams were short of a man, I thought that maybe I could manage to put one foot in front of the other for a greater purpose than the school run! She only had to badger me for three weeks (maybe a bit more) before I caved in, and decided to try and do an un-selfish thing for the team that took such great care of me and my growing family at Simpson’s birthing centre, and to support such a worthy charity. We were lucky that we managed to come by our two girls without much difficulty, but so many people close to us have had a far less easy time. So for all those little lost angels, and for the team that brought mine into the world, I will brave the elements, I will nod politely at my neighbours as they clock my post-run purple sweaty face with a look of horror, and who knows, by the end of it all I might even start to enjoy myself!

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