A brisk 5-minute walk, then 5 minutes of running, 3 minutes of walking, 8 minutes of running, 3 minutes of walking, 5 minutes of running.
Day 1: that's all I've done of week 6 so far. I'm e-a-s-i-n-g my way through a combination of weeks 5 and 6, nursing my knees (so far so good), working up gradually to my first 25 minute run.
I ran on Sunday afternoon (I'll do my next run today if I can). The first 5 minutes were sluggish and slow; the 8 minutes, a test of stamina; the last 5 minutes, joyous. It reminded me, again, why I'm doing this whole Couch to 5K thing.
I've been feeling worn out, flattened by life. After my run, I felt happy, energised, ready to face the week. Exercise isn't the key to life, but it's a good cure for blah-ness. It's a great gift of God, isn't it?
And I ran with my daughter! It was her first run for months. Despite that, she powered ahead of me through the first 5 minutes, long legs taking in big gulps of ground. "You go ahead, darling!", I panted. "I'll catch up!". The difference between 44 and 14 years.
Ah, but then she chose to sit out the 8 minute run. Okay, so she wasn't super-well, but it still made feel a bit better. Ageing legs and all, I've developed some stamina over the last few months.
We ran the last 5 minutes together, and she hit the sweet spot, where your mind gives up and your body takes over, lungs and legs doing their thing. It's a glorious feeling, best of all the first time you feel it.
She enjoyed it so much that she declared, "Mum, I want to go jogging again!" Sweet words to a mother's ears. Seems I have a new jogging companion, on weekends at least.