Enemies to lovers: my relationship with running

To set the scene, it was year two in primary school, and we were asked whether we would like to take part in a cross-country race competing with other schools. After the PE department had already taken their pick of the ‘best’ runners in our year group, there were still spaces left for volunteers. For some reason, I decided to volunteer myself. When I got home, I immediately asked my mum to teach me how to tie my own shoelaces. I was prepped and ready for the big day. However, I experienced the opposite of runner’s high when I finished last out of 150 other children. Heartbroken, I went home that day and vowed that I would never run again.

This promise was short-lived when I got to secondary school. PE lessons often included running warmups where I would fall behind my other classmates, or timed races around the tracks. Oh, and bleep tests! I am almost certain that everyone I knew despised bleep tests, but I do not think anyone did as much as I did. The term almost became taboo amongst my friends and me; no one dared to utter it in case we somehow manifested it taking place in PE later that day.

Running is not just about the exercise itself, but the community that has built from it

Starting sixth form was a blessing in disguise. No more compulsory PE, which meant no more compulsory running. I felt free from the sport that I was destined to hate from the day I volunteered myself for that cross-country race. However, it only took a few years of not running to realise that maybe I should give the sport a second chance.

In September 2024, I went along with my flatmate to a trial session for the Women’s Netball club league. Running around the court, out of breath and feeling nauseous, I realised something had to change, but I did not know where to start. When I went home for Christmas, I spoke to my parents about wanting to improve my running skills. My dad suggested the Couch to 5k programme, as he had completed it successfully during the lockdown. It was a random Sunday afternoon before my family had our weekly roast dinner, and I decided to start the programme.

Running alone in public for the first time is a feeling that I will never forget. It was a mixture of freedom, excitement, and fear that I was being watched and judged. However, I kept going, determined to conquer my fears. Midway through the run, another runner went past me and said “keep going” with a smile. Those words of encouragement were enough to make me realise that running is not just about the exercise itself, but the community that has built from it. Following his words of encouragement, I completed the run, the sun setting beautifully above as I finished.

That was the day that I changed my mind. I loved running.

This is your sign to give that sport or hobby a second chance (or closer to a twentieth chance in my case)

It has been just over a year since that exact moment, and since then I have literally gone from couch to 5k. From taking part in the Cancer Research Pretty Muddy Race for Life, to dressing up as a Christmas tree with my mum and completing my local parkrun on Christmas morning, I can proudly say that I am a runner.

So yes, that is the story of my enemies to lovers’ relationship with running. Trust me, it still annoys me sometimes, like when I get an injury and must take a break. Or the days where it feels like the hardest thing to do ever. Or when my foot splashes down into a puddle and it goes all over my clothes, which happened today. However, I always go back to it. Why? Runner’s high. The feeling that you are strong and capable, with endorphins channelling through your body. The feeling of sprinting at the end of the run. Some reasons I cannot even name, but running makes you feel powerful. This is your sign to give that sport or hobby a second chance (or closer to a twentieth chance in my case). Running taught me a valuable lesson: Sometimes, the things we hate most are waiting for us to meet them again at the right time.