If you want a training buddy, look elsewhere: exercising with your other half can be a nightmare
Fingers frozen solid, I stagger light-headed through the front door, ecstatic that I have managed to avoid a coughing fit on my latest training attempt. My skin is still emitting its post-run Martian-red glow when my husband eagerly chirps: “What was your time, what was your time?” Bursting with good intentions, he has taken a supportive interest in my running regime since I pledged to run 1,000km in a year.
Until the beginning of 2017 I had been a light runner, plodding about four miles a week at a leisurely pace. But inspired by friends on Facebook, I committed to the 12-month challenge and took part in my first half marathon in May, followed by a triathlon in September. My fitter, stronger other half, who runs two miles every weekday before 6am and lugs huge pieces of wood around at his cabinet-making workshop, has been eagerly tracking my training. So much so that earlier in the year we decided it would be a great idea to go for a run together one afternoon, while our boys were being entertained by grandparents.
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