How to Become a Runner

How to get the enjoyment of being a runner with a Couch to 5K plan—even if you don’t look like a runner

I fully believe that pretty much anyone can be a runner. When I hear people say “I’m not the running type,” or “I tried it and I hated it,” I always think, “you just haven’t done the right sort of running.” I feel arrogantly sure that I could change almost anyone’s mind on this topic.

I’ve been a runner for many years, covering distances between 5K and a full 26.2-mile marathon. Since 2007, I have not gone for more than seven days without running. But I really don’t look like “a runner”. I’m very pear-shaped, for a start, and I definitely need a sports bra even to jog downstairs. I go bright red when I’m running in the sun, and all my race photos are unspeakably awful — in short, I am not a lean, intimidatingly glamorous athlete. What I am, though, is very fit, with a lot of stamina, a surprisingly decent amateur running pace (although it took years to achieve that — more on this later!) and a whole ton of running endurance. And, of course, I just love running, in and of itself. But it wasn’t always like that.

Why Learn to Run?

We all know the benefits of regular cardiovascular exercise. They’ve been drilled into us enough, all through our lives. Exercise that raises our heart rate gets the blood pumping and develops the heart muscle; it sends freshly oxygenated blood through our veins and capillaries to the muscles that need it most, and also, vitally, to our brains. It can lower blood pressure, clear arteries, and regulate our blood sugar, as well as helping us sleep more soundly and generally just feel better. Cardio exercise is, basically, a very good thing and we all need plenty of it. Current recommendations are for 75–150 minutes of cardio exercise per week, depending on intensity and lifestyle.

There are all sorts of options for this sort of exercise. Cycling, tennis, a rowing machine, a spin class. But for all of those things, you need to spend money, and you need to spend time. Even a secondhand bike is likely to be reasonably expensive if it’s good enough to use regularly and actually get your heart rate up, and hiring tennis courts obviously comes at a price that can add up over time. Gym memberships are not only costly but in the current pandemic, they are not really an option again yet either (well, they’re not here in England).

If you’re adding a new activity to your life, it’s very unlikely you’ll stick with it for long if it requires a big adjustment to the way you manage your time. For the first few visits to the gym, that half-hour drive there, the 20-minute shower and changing-room chat afterward, the half-hour drive home again — they all seem fine, and manageable. But within a very short space of time, you’re realising that it’s a whole extra hour and twenty minutes on top of the exercise itself. You’re having a busy day. You can’t spare that slice out of it. And an exercise session slips back out of your routine again.

I’ve been there, with all of this. In 2007, I was working 25 hours a week, studying 10 hours a week, and raising three children who at the time were 9 years old, 4 years old, and fifteen months old. It was a lot, in other words. My life was full. But I was unfit and unhappy and I knew something had to change. So I joined a gym, and for a while, it was fine. I paid for extra childminder time for my baby three times a week, and I dashed to the gym from my office. I changed as quickly as I could and I slogged it out on the cross-trainer for ten minutes, the static bike for ten minutes, the rower for ten minutes, and the treadmill for 20 minutes. Then I spent ten minutes on the weights. (Just the baby weights, doing some resistance training as recommended by gym staff).

It was an all right workout, but with the travel and the changing time, it took nearly two hours of my day, three times a week. Six hours out of my already busy week. It wasn’t sustainable. And something else: it was really boring. I could listen to music on my iPod while I worked out, but this was way before the era of easily downloaded podcasts, and the music wasn’t quite enough to distract me from my efforts or from the reflection of my reddening face in the mirrored wall of the gym.

After a few weeks, I realised that the discipline I was enjoying most at the gym was the treadmill. It was very hard work, but I could see as the weeks went by that the distance I was able to cover in my 20-minute session was increasing. It was a good feeling. I was still doing more walking (sometimes on an incline) than I was running, but the sense of improvement had an addictive edge to it. I decided to give outdoor running a try.

Slow and Consistent Gives You Big Wins

Here’s a thing. Very few people are naturally able to just start running and be able instantly to cover miles and miles. If you put on a pair of running shoes for the first time and just set off optimistically into the distance, you probably won’t get to the second lamppost before you have to stop, put your hands on your knees, and feel a wave or two of self-loathing. It just doesn’t work like that. You won’t sprint like an agile gazelle within a few days. Becoming a runner involves two important things: you have to start slowly, and you have to be consistent.

Before you start, do make sure you have shoes that are up to the job. These don’t have to be expensive, although it’s true to say that if there is one expense associated with running, it’s the footwear. Don’t go out and spend a hundred pounds on some snazzy Asics straight away, though. A pair of £30 running shoes from Amazon should take you through the first few months of becoming a runner. Gait analysis and more expensive shoes can come later.

Then, if you can, find a downloadable guide to talk you through the intervals you’ll need in the first few weeks of learning to run. You won’t begin by running for the full time you’re out; you’ll instead start with intervals of running and walking.

I am a devotee of the Couch to 5K plan. In England, we have a BBC app for this, but I think a more universal information site is this one. What you want, basically, is an app that will allow you to listen to your own music, podcast, or audiobook while you run (or silence if you prefer), but interrupt with the timing of your intervals. “Start running!” the voice in your ear might say, and then 30 neatly-timed seconds later, “Stop running. Move at a gentle walking pace.”

When I started my running journey, I didn’t yet have an iPhone — they were out of the reach of most mere mortals in England in 2007. I had an old Nokia, and a cracked iPod Nano, and no way to overwrite my music with any interval instructions. So I took a piece of paper and a stopwatch in my pocket and worked out my running and walking gaps that way!

Beginning the Run

And then it’s time to start moving. This is where I think a lot of people first lose faith, a little bit too soon. The thing is, and I can’t stress this enough: You really need to run slowly. If you feel like you’re actually running, the way you might if someone chased you or you could see your bus in the distance, you’re probably going too fast. This is not the time to push yourself too hard, even on the running intervals of your plan.

Save your energy and concentrate on things you can control — your running form, for example. Hold your head up high and look ahead, not down at your feet. This makes a surprising difference to how much breath you’re able to take into your lungs, and the length in your body will improve your stride naturally. Pushing your shoulders back will help your hips find the right angle and, in turn, will help protect your delicate knees and ankles.

Lots of people are self-conscious at the start about where to place their arms. I definitely was. But let them find a natural, gentle swing that accompanies the gait of your steps. Try not to let your arms swing over your body, though. Too much of a swing across your torso can twist it, and no one wants that. For one thing, too much torso rotation can cause your hips and legs to move unevenly, which might lead to overstretching or injury.

Breathing matters, but don’t get hung up on it yet. I used to think there was a magic formula — maybe one breath to every three steps? — that would make running easier. This isn’t the case. You’ll feel out of breath at first, and possibly slightly panicky; that’s normal, too. Try to keep your breathing as steady as you can, but without focusing on it too much. This is where music or a podcast can really help. If you can manage not to think too much about your breathing or the fact that you are actually running, it’s indescribably easier.

Sustaining the Pace

I don’t mean your running pace. I mean keeping up the consistency day-to-day. If you go for one Couch to 5K outing and then leave it a week before you go again, you won’t see much of an improvement in your running, and you’ll end up disheartened and no more fit. No — you should try, if you can, to stick to the plan, which is usually 3 or 4 runs a week at the outset. Whatever it takes to get yourself out of the door — do it! I used to promise myself a glass of wine afterward. Weirdly, I rarely wanted it once I finished running, but the thought of “earning” it got me out there.

Try not to have more than two rest days in a row in the early stages, provided you feel all right and don’t have tightness or injury. The early part of a Couch to 5K program doesn’t involve enough running time or distance to need many days of recovery between sessions, and if you plug away at going regularly enough, you’ll notice an improvement more quickly — which in turn is encouraging, meaning you’re more likely to want to go again.

Remember your stretches. Don’t ever stretch cold — you shouldn’t ever stretch before you run, but remembering to give a bit of a nudge to your calves, hamstrings, and hips when you get home again will help your body adjust to all the new things it’s doing, and you’ll feel more comfortable when you’re running, too.

After the Couch to 5K Plan

You’ve done it! You’ve followed a Couch to 5K plan, and you can run for 30 minutes without stopping. That is an amazing achievement. Your heart will thank you. But you probably won’t be thanking yourself.

This is another crucial point, I think, when so many new runners lose heart. It still feels so hard, it’s still such an effort to drag yourself around that 3-mile loop. Yes, you can technically run 3 miles. That’s great. But your heart still feels like it’ll burst out of your chest; you can’t concentrate on anything other than the sound of your ragged breathing and your feet slapping the pavement. The notion of a runner’s high feels like a myth and you feel cheated because after all, you’ve learned to run, haven’t you? But it still feels awful. You definitely don’t think you’re a runner.

Here’s the thing. It will feel better if you give it a bit longer. But what you need to do now is to stop thinking about pace, stop thinking about distance, and start thinking about slowing things right down. Your body needs to develop stamina before it can learn anything else, and the best way to develop stamina is just to jog, slowly at first, as often as you can.

Try listening to audiobooks and podcasts while you run — the spoken words slow your pace down compared to a fast musical beat. Or try some beautiful classical music. Whatever you choose, the distraction of something to listen to is incredibly useful if you’re running alone (always use headphones safely, of course — don’t wear them if there’s traffic, or if you’re running alone at night). If you find something you’re really interested in, the miles will melt away under your feet.

Or you could try running with a friend, or friends. One New Year a few years ago, having got good-naturedly tired of me evangelising about it, my whole book group decided to learn to run. We used a WhatsApp group to organise regular group running sessions in the evenings from outside a local supermarket (a well-lit spot to meet on dark evenings, with parking for those of us who drove to the meeting point). It was fun, no one ever got left behind, and most of us have remained runners ever since.

Try some different routes. Find, if you can, some trails or beautiful scenery to occupy your eyes while you trudge along. I promise it helps. Running along a pretty coastline is particularly glorious. (This is why I often take trainers if we go on a beach holiday. I’m not one of “those people” who can’t miss a workout. I genuinely love the way the sea and sky look when I’m covering the miles at a faster than walking pace).

What you’re heading for in all this is the point where you realise, after three miles, that you barely even noticed them happening. You went for a run and yeah, you’re out of breath now, and you need a shower and you wouldn’t want to run any further and you’re tired but you know what? You sorted out a thorny work problem in your head while you were running along, and you barely even noticed what your legs were doing.

THAT’S the moment you’re aiming for. That’s when you realise you’re a runner. And that’s when, I think, it becomes properly fun.

Life as a Runner

Running is very personal. You might be aiming to do a marathon within 18 months of your first 5K; you might never want to do more than 20-minute plods around the park after taking your children to school. You’re still a runner.

I didn’t change my pace much for the first five years or so of running. Three times a week I’d go out and plod for an hour or so, doing anywhere between three and seven miles. But once my children were a bit older, and I had a bit more time, I decided I’d like to work on my pace. The internet is full of advice on that — speed interval sessions between lampposts were a favourite, and hill sprints, and “tempo runs”, where you try to sustain a pace that is somewhere between your fastest pace and your normal one.

Using all these techniques, I got my average mile pace down within a year or so from approximately 10 minutes per mile to around 8:30, which is where it still hovers today. On a good day, I can push it to 7:45, which gets me a decent 5K time, although that’ll hurt while I’m doing it. (Feels amazing afterward, though). I can reliably do a half-marathon in under two hours. See? Respectable running times, for an amateur girl pushing forty. Or I think so, anyway. I wouldn’t be at the back of an amateur running group. I wouldn’t be at the front, but I never wanted to be.

The joy for me in running is being out there, seeing the seasons change, the sunrises, the sunsets, the different corners of different cities. There is so much to love about it. And it’s still the quickest, cheapest way to fit in an efficient cardio workout. That’s why I always want to share it with everyone.