Motivation, motivation, motivation...

I've signed up for a 10K run in September. As a generally lazy, slightly overweight ladygirl in her thirties with a fondness for hand-rolled cigarettes, beer and trifle, you would be forgiven for thinking that this is already looking less like being a run and more like a definite 10k drag .
I should say at this stage that I ran a 5K earlier in the year. I have been quite a good runner in the past and have done the Race For Life 5K for the last three years. Problem is, I finish it in a respectable time, raise loads of cash for a good cause and and then feel all smug at my achievement, so I don't run again for months and smoke extra fags to make up for all the goodness. It is no secret that I am totally lacking in willpower and motivation. So, this blog is to serve me as a running diary/motivational tool/guilt trip, call it what you will. And I do so desperately want to give up the fags (yes, I've tried before and yes, I've read that Michael thingy book and all that). So I'm hoping that the running will help me to kick the bad habit. That and this diary jogblog thing.

So this evening, I'm being honest and am going to embarrass myself in the style of that ridiculous Bridget Jones and tell you, diary tool, that I currently weigh 11stone. Today I smoked no fags and ate no trifle and drank no beer. I got home from work and went for a run round the park, which I rather enjoyed, as it was cool and quiet; not much interference from the pit bulls or kids hanging out by the swings and apart from a slight gagging at the gentle waft of warm dog poo and tripping over a few bits of discarded fried chicken at the park gates, it was fairly uneventful.

The plan is to run at least three times during the week and a longer run at the weekend.
Monday down, only two and a long one to go...