"If you can talk you can sing ...

... If you can walk you can dance" Well at least according to the old Zimbabwean proverb. Last week, after a fantastic initial response - thank you for your sponsorship and words of encouragement / incredulity - I felt I should hit the roads and start my training.

Peeling back my bedroom curtains I found a crispy fresh winter morning waving at me. Feeling invigorated I de-bagged and de-tagged my new running gear; struggled my vest over my paunch and hula-ed into my short shorts.

A few short stretches later and I couldn't help but bound down the stairs and out of the front door, and pound down the pavement.

I was eating up the sidewalk; chewing and spitting it out. Woooooooosh. A left turn up to Paddington Recreational Ground, and I was buzzing. Around the park and, after slaloming a few prams and stray footballs, onto the running track I bounced. A few laps would suffice for my first run, right?

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Four laps later and I was beaten. My back ached; my legs burned and I had to stop. Gone was the great feeling that had propelled me down the stairs and my legs virtually sprinting to the park.

I walked back to the flat. Slowly.

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I worked out that I had done two-and-a-half miles in half-an-hour. Meaning that if I continued at that (what felt like warp) speed, I would complete the 26.3 miles in, er, over five hours.

I felt so demoralized. You have to start somewhere though, right?

"If you can talk you can sing. If you can walk you can jog a little, but not for very far" (A new Maidavalian proverb ... )