On your marks, get set, go

The sun beats down as I walk toward the start line for the Huntly 10km run.

Nearly 1000 of us – runners and walkers – gather at the northern end of the Huntly Park domain for our big race, and we arrange ourselves into obvious order.

Pure athletes – gazelle-like specimens with legs long and lean – jostle at the front of the pack champing at the bit, ready to bolt at the starter’s gun.

I can’t help but admire them as I wander to the rear to stand with the also-rans, comfortable in the knowledge that my place is somewhere down the back.

“Five minutes to go,” rings out over the loudspeaker.

My mind wanders for a moment but the sound of the announcer’s voice echoes in my ears and his words, like a bolt from the sky, strikes a dose of reality into my day.

I repeat his call with a gasp. “Five minutes.”

Five minutes till I run a distance I haven’t run since I was a fit,

young rugby playing 20-something.

That was more than 15 years ago and even then, I wasn’t much of a runner.

Now I’ve only got five minutes – make that four minutes – before I have to prove my worth.I feel my heart racing and my chest tighten. Fear is setting in and I start to question myself.

Will I finish?

How long will I take?

What the hell am I doing here?

I close my eyes and take a breath.

Life and lifestyle had caught up with me. Sport and recreation had given way to work and family and the years had flown by.

I had decided that this year was time to make a change and excuses would find no favour with me today. Huntly last weekend was my milestone and I was determined to meet it.

I open my eyes but the nerves get the better of me and I take a quick glance at at my watch again – three minutes.
Stretching my legs on the roadside, I think back to my first workout of the year in late January.

It had taken me two weeks of tyre kicking and arm waving before I actually laced up my shoes to strike it out the door.

My programme had me running one minute and walking two, run one minute, walk two for a total of 30 minutes and I was knackered by the end of it.

A pathetic sight indeed but every journey starts with a single step and my journey has led me here.

“Two minutes to go,” comes the cry over the loudspeaker. “Get ready.”

All heads turn forward and a wave of energy flows through the swelling mass of bodies all heaving in their compression suits.

Mums kiss their children and white wires connect iPod devices to earholes.

“Just keep going,” I say to myself. “Lean forward, stay on the balls of your feet and put one foot in front of the other.”

A sense of calm washes over me. I’ve made it this far and there is no turning back now.

The crowd is humming. We push forward.

A voice rings out across the domain. “10 seconds… five… Are you ready?”