Run fat-boy, run...

Getting back into running was not part of some grand New Year’s resolution or a sudden burst of motivation. It happened quietly, somewhere between a busy workday and a packed family evening, when I realised that if I didn’t make time for myself, it simply wasn’t going to happen at all.

So now, three times a week, you’ll find me lacing up my trainers at lunchtime.

It’s not glamorous. There’s no sunrise, no empty trails, no perfectly planned training schedule. Just a 30–35 minute window, a change of clothes stuffed in a backpack, and a very determined decision to use that break for something more than scrolling on my phone. But those 5km runs have quickly become one of the best parts of my week.

Like a lot of people, weight has crept up on me over the years. Family life, studying, work, late nights, quick meals – it all adds up quietly until one day you look in the mirror and barely recognise the version of yourself staring back. For a long time I told myself I was “too busy” to do anything about it. The truth was simpler: I hadn’t made it a priority.

Running at lunchtime changed that.

There’s something powerful about reclaiming that small slice of the day. No distractions, no emails, no responsibilities for half an hour. Just me, my breathing, and the steady rhythm of feet on pavement. At first, 5km felt like a mountain. My legs complained, my lungs burned, and every excuse in the book tried to talk me into stopping early. But I kept going – slowly, imperfectly, one run at a time.

And then something shifted.

The runs got easier. Not easy – but easier. My pace improved without me really noticing. The post-run fatigue turned into a strange kind of energy that carried me through the afternoon. More importantly, the number on the scales started to move in the right direction. Not dramatically, not overnight, but enough to remind me that consistency really does work....