Passions: Couch to 5k is great – but only if you drop the 5k

Just getting out in the snow and doing something is enough for me

You can’t beat running in the snow. Even when in my case it’s not so much running as slowly lumbering. You still can’t beat it.

I take up running every year. It’s always round about the time when I see something telling me that the older you get, the harder it is to stay fit. This time it was a 76-year-old bodybuilder grandmother, drawn to my attention by the madness of the social media algorithms. She was still delighted to be going to the gym. “It’s easy to keep fit in your 30s,” she said. “And your 40s and even your 50s.” I don’t know what happens after that. I stopped listening.

So I do a sort of Couch to 5k. But I’ve had to adapt it a bit as it sounded a little too much like something you had to commit to. So I do a Couch to Couch instead, which is a definite improvement without that pesky distance involved. So basically all I have to do is get off the couch, go up the road a bit, come back, get back on the couch and eat cake. Or a healthy snack. (Needs must.)

I’ve cut out a lot of the other bits of difficulty involved as well. I don’t follow the timescale. None of that, do this on day three and then wait two and three-quarter days etc etc. I just do it when I have time. Much easier. Also I don’t do the required timekeeping – two minutes of walk, thirty seconds running etc etc. I just shuffle really slowly and go a bit further each time. A bit of ‘old skool’ never did anyone any harm.

I’ve ditched some of the other elements to the whole fitness thing too. I don’t bother to get changed anymore. I live in leggings and joggers these days anyway so I just add a woolly hat and gloves and a pair of ancient trainers that would be more at home in the nostalgia section of a museum. I suppose I’d better admit I don’t bother having a shower when I get back. After all, I’m not going to be putting in enough effort to break into a sweat. Also I don’t plan on going out before about March so all good.

Yet, despite all my half-arsery, l really enjoy it. I love the squeak of the fresh snow under my feet, the only sound in the muffled blanket of whiteness. The sky is apocalyptic grey and the air I gulp down is freezing. There’s nobody about, just a couple of pheasants. I may never get fit, or keep it up, but it doesn’t matter. The open road is in front of me and just for that instant, there’s nothing better.

Emma McGarvie is Production Manager at The Scotsman