by James Birk
Chapter 16
I was awoken by the shrill sound of the alarm function on my cheap pay as you go mobile phone. It was a sound I had become slightly too familiar with over the past few months. With a groan my arm reached out from underneath the duvet and switched off the offending handset. I pulled it back into the bed and glanced at the screen. Quarter past six in the morning. It was a time of day I had never known prior to my new regime, even earlier than I used to wake during my stint working as a stockroom assistant when I had to get up for the seven o’clock delivery.
I leapt out of bed with energy and enthusiasm and looked at the ‘training gear’ that was hanging over the slightly ajar wardrobe door. I still didn’t really possess any sporting paraphernalia, so I continued to use my old Cardiff City shirt, the Hawaiian style swimming shorts and my badly scuffed tennis shoes.
I felt tired but alert. My body clock was adjusting to the regime slowly.
As I jogged gently up City road and onto Albany Road I was surprised at just how many familiar faces I could see opening up shops, delivering goods or just commuting to work. It was as though I had discovered an entirely new community after recently moving to a new time zone. I turned up Welfield Road and reached the little community centre on the corner of Ninian Road and Pen-y-lan Road which marked the starting point of my regular route. I was feeling ambitious that morning. I was going to run from the playing fields at the bottom of the park, up to and around the lake at the top of the park and then back again. It was around four miles, but I thought that I might finally be able to manage it after coming close on my last few attempts.
I started with a brisk jog past the community centre and onto the dirt track that ran alongside the playing fields. It wasn’t too long before the familiar onset of calf pain and breathlessness kicked in. By the time I had reached the top of the playing fields and about half a mile into my run I was starting to breathe quite heavily and I was sweating profusely. I pushed on, into the Pleasure Park, the second of Roath Park’s four sections. I ran past the Bowling Green and the tennis courts, but my breathing didn’t deteriorate any more. The pain in my calves was spreading to my feet but I knew now that it would pass in time. By the time I got through the Pleasure Park and I was a mile into my run, the pain was starting to ease. I surged through the ornamental gardens with a growing sense of exhilaration and soon I was running alongside the lake and into previously uncharted territory. I was starting to tire as I reached the top of the lake, but the stunning vista of the water on a frosty morning inspired me as I crossed the little wooden bridge and started to make my way back to my starting point on the opposite side.
Back in the playing fields, having successfully completed my circuit, I allowed myself a pause on my usual bench and stared at the vast green expanse in front of me. I wanted to cry. I’m not sure that I didn’t weep a bit. I had finally broken the back of Roath Park. My training had begun in earnest. Yes there was still a long way to go but this was a real and tangible improvement.
As I was contemplating my progress, another runner loomed into view. He was a magnificent specimen of a man. Dressed all in black with insanely short shorts and a tight fitting vest made of what seemed to be a fairly hi-tech mesh, he continued to be impressive sight. He was all sinew and muscle with a focussed, almost aggressive look on his face.
He ran towards me at an implausibly fast pace, but, on seeing me, he slowed down.
‘Alright Chris?’ he asked.
‘Alright Bryn,’ I said, ‘How’s it going?’
‘Yeah not bad,’ he replied, ‘How’s your training going?’
‘Made it round mate,’ I beamed, ‘I’ll be catching you up before you know it.’
Bryn laughed loudly, demonstrating no sign of breathlessness, despite the fact that he had almost certainly just completed the first six miles of his daily ten mile run.
‘I don’t doubt it mate,’ he said, ‘but you aren’t going to be coming close until you get yourself a pair of decent trainers.’
I looked down at my battered tennis shoes guiltily. Bryn had become something of a mentor in recent weeks, having seen me struggle but persist with my fairly regular runs around the park. I had taken most of his advice on board, but I had yet to heed his insistence that I needed to invest in a decent pair of trainers.
‘All in good time mate,’ I pleaded.
‘I’m serious though,’ asserted Bryn, ‘you’re going to do some serious damage to yourself if you don’t get the proper footwear. Especially because you’re, well I don’t want to be rude but you are quite a heavy runner, so you need, you know, cushioning and that. In your trainers,’ he paused uncertainly before adding, ‘no offence, obviously.’
‘None taken mate,’ I smiled. I meant it too. He was such a decent bloke I couldn’t even be offended when I knew he was basically calling me a fat bastard.
We shook hands and he continued on his run. He stopped at the pull up bars and started pulling himself up almost effortlessly.
I sat there for a little longer, watching in awe as he continued with his ferocious workout.
I jogged slowly back to my flat. There were far more people on Albany Road by now, although the shops were not yet open. My outfit, as always, attracted perplexed looks and I realised, not for the first time, that an overhaul to my outfit was well overdue. I had finally earned the right to ‘look the part’.
I got back to my flat and threw myself into the shower. After twenty minutes under the hot, although somewhat underpowered flow of water, I felt incredible.
I dressed and looked in the mirror. Today was a positive step forward, I told myself. Yes in terms of marathon training, it was a long way from the finish line, but today I had made genuine progress. I left my flat with a spring in my step and a glint in my eye, feeling more positive and for the first time in a while, healthy.
The woman in Markbys looked surprised to see me.
‘Haven’t seen you in a while!’ she exclaimed.
‘I’ve been eating healthily,’ I laughed, ‘New Year’s resolution and all that.’
‘So what are you doing here today?’ she asked
‘Celebrating,’ I said ‘I’ll have a bacon baguette please. I deserve it.’
