Getting the side-eye … Ioan Marc Jones tests out his hydration system. Photograph: David Levene/The Guardian View image in fullscreen Getting the side-eye … Ioan Marc Jones tests out his hydration system. Photograph: David Levene/The Guardian Running Nipple tape, pickle juice and dinosaurs: how I learned to love running, the unorthodox way The usual advice was getting me nowhere. If I really wanted to embrace running, I’d need to go off-piste. It was a journey that took me to some very strange places …
Prefer the Guardian on Google I ’ve always hated running. I’ve tried several times in the past, even made it work for a week or two, then stopped. I hated the excess of pain, the minimal gain. I never experienced runner’s high , only runner’s low. I despised the weather, come rain or shine, and the fact I had to be out in it. But most of all I hated the plodding, the tedium, the sheer mundanity of the run. Is that really how I’d choose to spend my one precious life?
Then an old football injury returned, with a vengeance. Doctors had previously rebuilt my kneecap, added titanium and rendered me bionic. But they’d not anticipated Natasha Bedingfield , come midnight at a wedding, and the extremity of my dance moves. My kneecap went a-wandering. It started to catch and click-clack, like castanets. A physio soon gave me the news I’d always dreaded: I had to start running , outside, properly, and often.
Typical running advice had always failed me. I’d tried carb-loading, but I just gained a stone (14lb, or about 6kg). I’d downloaded all the apps, played all the playlists. I’d stretched, warmed down, the whole nine yards. But nothing worked.
So this time I decided I’d reach out to seasoned runners and ask for unorthodox advice. I’d learn to love running, via the road less travelled.
For my first run I left my flat in an M&S T-shirt, swimming trunks (the only shorts I owned) and scruffy Reebok Workouts. I instantly learned that Workouts are terrible for workouts. I learned that Penge High Street in south London is not the best place to jog, with its dreary pavements and immovable crowds, and that swimming trunks tend to slide down. But I managed to finish the run, with a little walking, and recorded my time: 1.51km in 11 minutes and 57 seconds. I was pleasantly surprised.
Now for the improvement. “I went to a sports store and purchased running gear and decent shoes,” writes Haruki Murakami, novelist and author of What I Talk About When I Talk About Running . “This is how you become a runner.” Following his lead, I hovered awkwardly around the local sports shop and asked the closest employee for all the help I could get. I soon found myself shoeless, as the man conducted an ocular gait analysis.
View image in fullscreen If the shoe fits … Photograph: David Levene/The Guardian “You have flat feet,” he said. “And they’re exceptionally wide.” I nearly apologised. After trying on a few pairs, like a fat-footed Cinderella, I found the perfect shoe. My glass slipper was the Brooks Adrenaline GTS25.
I bought new running tops and short shorts, because runners wear short shorts. I wanted to fit in. And I bought a hydration vest, after reading advice from runners online . It seemed akin to a beer helmet but proved a godsend, preventing the jingle of keys and the bounce of my phone, even if the plastic straw kept slapping my face.
I made some unusual purchases, too, on the advice of Sarah Hartley, a presenter on The Running Channel Podcast . “I want…