Two go jogging

How to start jogging:

1) Eat evening meal. Home-made meatballs and tagiatelle are good. Make too much because daughter is home from university, I've only just got used to cooking for 2 and can't remember the quantities for 3 so I make for 4, just in case. Meatballs for protein, tagiatelle for carbs, veg for 5-a-day. Have yogurt for pud even though I feel quite full. It's good for digestion and bloating (adding to or taking away, I get confused which).

2)Start watching telly. Say (nonchalantly) to Andy 'Shall we go for a walk? It's such a lovely evening.' Find carrier bag to gather greenery for chickens.

3)Andy agrees. Wearing totally unsuitable footwear and trousers that are a tad too tight (see point 1) set off for park at a brisk pace (aka 'warm-up'.)

4) Notice park is VERY BUSY. Full of people playing football, dog walking, mucking about with remote controlled cars (I mean, how long exactly can a bloke be entertained by a remote controlled car?? YAWWWWN!), and joggers (fools). Panic a bit. Am I brave enough to jog in public in view of other people? Is it dark enough yet?

5) Maintain brisk walking pace. Stride purposefully to where path ends suddenly in middle of the park for no apparent reason. Admire lovely trees full of blossom and think 'I wish I'd brought my camera.'

6) Yomp across grass to area in park where smooth grass turns to rustic wild-life area. Glance around furtively. No-one in sight. Pick a patch of dandelion leaves for hens, all the while checking vicinity for other signs of life with the potential to laugh. (This includes ducks. Ducks laugh. Trust me, I've heard them.)

7) Say to Andy 'Shall we run across this bit of lumpy grassland?' 'Yes,' says Andy.

AND OFF WE GO!!!!!!! Jog,jog,jog,jog, mind that pot hole, jog, jog, keep a look out for people, jog, jog, joggity, puff, puff, puff, gasp and...

8) STOP! Bend over, puffing. 'Ask, 'How long did we run for? A minute? Two minutes?' Try not to feel disheartened when Andy says 'About 30 seconds.' Carry on brisk walk. Reach bottom of gentle upwards slope. Say to Andy, 'Let's run up this gentle upwards slope.' 'Okay,' says Andy. AND OFF WE GO!!!!!!

9) STOP!!! People! Resume brisk walk. Loiter in bushes on pretext of picking more dandelions until people have disappeared from view. Seek out suitable tree not too far in distance. Make a dash for tree. Have a laugh because the jog is turning into an episode of 'Secret Squirrel.'

10) Andy says, 'I'll time us to run for a minute.' A MINUTE??? Meatballs, tagiatelle and yogurt settling nicely in stomach now. 'READY?' says Andy. 'GO!' says Andy, missing out the 'Steady,' bit, most unfairly I think because I need to build myself up to these sudden bursts of energy. Jog, jog, joggity, jog, jiggle, bounce (must get a sports bra), joggity, puff, gasp, haven't we done a minute yet, jog, jog, 'KEEP GOING TO THE NEXT TREE! yells Andy, jog, jog, jog, 'AND THE NEXT TREE! yells Andy, 'WHO DIED AND MADE YOU THE PERSONAL TRAINER? yells me, jog, jog and...

11) That's a minute! The longest minute in my life. The minute where my entire life would have flashed before my eyes if I hadn't been concentrating so much on staying vertical and breathing.

My skin is pink and itchy, my heart is pounding in my ears, but my knees are intact and we are laughing so much I wish I'd had a wee before we'd set off. We do a few more surreptitious dashes between trees until we reach the busy part of the park where we slow to a brisk walk (warm down) and then more of an amble up the hill towards home. We have been out, larking in the park, for an hour, covering just over 3 miles. We have a cup of tea and a flapjack each (oats, good for the heart, sugar, good for the soul) and feel v. pleased we have started running together.

I have HUGE admiration for all those people who run long distance without the aid of strategically placed trees and without stopping every minute to catch their breath.

One day, that'll be me and Andy!