Remember back in February, I started writing about my fitness journey and I opened with how I’d given OUTrun a bash. OUTrun is a 5 mile run to raise awareness for LGBT+ participation in sports, most of my friends love to run and I hate to miss out on an event. So as simple as that, we all signed up. Apparently enough time had lapsed since the last OUTrun for me to think it would be a good idea… that positivity didn’t last long.
I got up on Saturday morning and felt sick. I AM NOT DOING IT. I got my phone out and almost messaged my fellow OUTrun buddies to tell them I wasn’t doing it. I actually felt sick. But I jumped in the shower, downed a coffee and gave myself a shake. GET A GRIP WOMAN. Before I knew it we were all in the Uber and on our way, how wonderful, but not before a quick regret fuelled instagram story.
Ok, so the route of OUTrun is actually beautiful, if you were casually walking it on a lovely, sunny day, you’d have a great time. Running it is hell. 5 miles is much further than I think, my general fitness level is high enough to run a 5k, 5k is not 5 miles Amy, 5 miles as 8k – EIGHT K! But, you know, whatever, I was giving it another bash. The atmosphere at OUTrun is beautiful, it’s one of those events where people are trying to get a good time but not at the expense of the slow pokes at the back. The route goes out, loops around and come back so by the time I was at the mile 2 mark the runners at the front were already on their way back. My gut tells me that this should be utterly depressing but in fact, the runners at the front often shouted words of encouragement, offered high fives and cheered. As an emotional runner at the best of times, these friendly actions made me want to cry every single time.
Don’t get me wrong, it was tough, really tough, it’s a hilly, hellish route that had me walking a lot of it (especially that last killer hill) but yet again, I was glad I’d tried and I completely it a whole minute faster. Plus you know, there’s the glory of posing smugly at the end in our highlighter coloured shirts…
Next year I’ll train.