Heart pounding. My feet hit the pavement in a regular rhythm that syncs with my breathing. The scenery passes by and I hardly notice it. I’m in a bubble that is all mine. Some runners may overtake me, I overtake others. I don’t really notice. Instead, I concentrate on the cool air as it passes into my nose, down my throat, into my lungs. I exhale warm air as I continue striding.

I only ‘learnt’ to run a few years ago. As a swimmer at school, with short legs and no natural ability, I had avoided running. I didn’t have a runners build. I was the weakest link on relay teams at school sports carnivals. So, thinking I wasn’t any good at it, I avoided running. I gave up on myself.

My sister is a triathlete and I always watched her in awe, wondering how she could do. Then one day I decided it was about time I gave it a go. I could swim, I could ride a bike, I just needed to learn to run; put one foot in front of the other, repeat quickly. How hard could it be?

I remember the first time I ran 2 kilometres. I had just joined a novice triathlon program and at our very first training session we did a 2 kilometre time trial. I wasn’t even sure that I could run 2 kilometres. We did a warm-up jog, stretches, some run-throughs, and then it was time for the actual run. I was tired already! I made the 2 kilometres, albeit slowly, and was stoked with myself. Maybe I could face this running business after all.

I’d always had visions of myself in a tracksuit, running around an oval in the evenings, like some sort of semi-professional athlete. Now I was actually doing that (except that it was summer so I had to scrap myself wearing a fetching Adidas tracksuit from the vision). I gradually built up my running skills until I was competing in sprint distance triathlons. Then I did a 10 kilometre run. Next a half-marathon. I couldn’t believe it – the non-runner had become just that, a runner.

It’s amazing what I learnt about myself by pushing my body to do things I had never believed it could. Suddenly, nothing seemed too daunting. If I could push my body to run 20 kilometres I could do anything.

I’m not fast and I’m not particularly dainty when I run. But I am happy. I run every day because it makes me feel good about myself (so good, in fact, that I have that sentence written down in my daily planner so that I can see it every time I open it). Running allows me to think. It allows me to escape reality. It allows me to have ‘me-time’; I have no obligation to anyone else while I’m running. Running has become one of my passions.

So maybe there is something that you’ve always wanted to try, something that perhaps you thought you couldn’t do, or something where you don’t fit the stereotypical mould. Whatever it is, I urge you to get out there and try it. Give it a go. If I hadn’t stepped outside of my comfort zone I would never have learnt that, without fail, running keeps me sane, it makes me believe just a little bit more in myself, it makes me happy.

Mel Rodgers is the woman you see running along smiling; the one who makes you wonder why she is smiling while gasping for air and sweating profusely.

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