So, ever since being inspired by Sarah Connor (see Strong Women Don't Drink!) I have been running every day.
When I say running, I actually mean a combination of running and walking. And anyone more interested in veracity than being supportive might actually say jogging rather than running. But, hell, it's a start.
The terrier is in shock. He's used to me ambling along, checking e-mails, making 'phone calls and chatting to passers by while he wanders off having a good old sniff and marking the territory. Now if he stops for a bit he has to sprint to catch up with me.
I wouldn't say that I'm enjoying the whole thing yet. I enjoy getting back. And every now and again I get a glimpse of 'runners high' - the endorphin rush that us lot have been chasing for years in the bottom of a bottle.
The only way I can keep going for longer than a few minutes is with a really good sound track, so I've put together a playlist on my iPhone with a whole load of clubbing tunes from my misspent youth including Fat Boy Slim, Chemical Brothers, Leftfield, Robert Miles and Faithless.
(Quick aside: I used to work with the actual brother of one of the Chemical Brothers (who weren't actual brothers). I remember him telling me about taking his middle class, middle aged parents to one of the Chemical Brother's gigs in Brixton. They were totally bemused, not only by the music, but by the fact that complete strangers kept hugging them).
This morning I ended up running to a Faithless track: Insomnia (click here for a reminder). The lyrics, I can't get no sleep (repeat), combined with the relentless beat took me back vividly to all those nights I used to spend from 3am onwards tossing and turning, sweating and fretting.
I would get stuck in an endless cycle of trying to sleep, thoughts racing, hating myself, then going to the loo, then going back to bed, then going to get a drink of water, then trying to get to sleep...repeat....until about half an hour before the alarm was due to go off, at which point I'd drop off and have weird dreams.
(For more on alcohol and insomnia see my post on Sleep, Glorious Sleep)
It struck me that I haven't had a night like that for nearly five months! Even if I wake up in the night worrying about something I can think about it logically, park it and go back to sleep. I sleep for, on average, seven hours a night. Proper, restful sleep.
Those tracks still give me a pang of nostalgia, but I wouldn't swap the natural high of a sunny, Sunday morning feeling energetic and fabulous for anything.
Love to you all,