What were the odds? What were the evens?

Hi and welcome to my first ever blog entry.

For several years now; everyone - from one of my sister's ex-boyfriends to friends and family alike - have encouraged, nay threatened me, to write a blog and here it is.

What's it all about? Well I plan to focus on a wide range of topics including sport, books, coffee, running, family, children and a whole lot more!

My first topic is running and my love-hate relationship with this evil temptress.

For all of you that know me well, you will know that I used to hate running. Actually, hate is too kind a word. Despise, loath and fear would be a more accurate description.

I used to hate it when we had to run - often, for what seemed like hours at a time - around Victory Park and up and down the hill by the school's tuck shop - during rugby practice.

So when a friend nonchalantly suggested (as if it was nothing more than going out for a cup of coffee) about five years ago; that we go for a run I was, to put it mildly, horrified and filled with a feeling of extreme nervousness.

At the time I was smoking at least 30 cigarettes a day and so, after puffing away like a mad steam train before we met, the moment arrived and so we took off around Duncan Mackinnon (a reserve in suburban Melbourne, Australia).

I was stuffed at the end of the lap but I was addicted and soon began to run on my own - even buying the obligatory pair of running shoes.

So addicted had I become that I used to drive past people out for a run and wish I could join them!

This addiction continued until just after my daughter was born over three years ago. Ongoing knee trouble caused me to stop but I took up the habit again six months ago and am now going stronger than ever.

I now run every second day! Who would have thought it?! Not I!

It boggles the mind and to quote a good friend of mind: 'What were the odds? What were the evens?'