Many, many years ago, I entered a stand-up comedy competition, run by the Comedy Store, and I was nervous as hell. So I decided to call a few comedians, to ask for some help. By far the best bit of advice I got was from Jenny Eclair, who offered me this pearl of wisdom:

“Just don’t come last.”

For some reason, I’m reminded of this as I slog round the park on Monday night, half-dead from exhaustion. I think I might have a stitch too. For the last few weeks, I’ve constantly been at the back of the blue pack in my BMF classes, wheezing away. It hasn’t really been a problem – everyone’s been really supportive in fact. But I start to think. Maybe I’m not pushing myself enough here. After all, the instructors can only do so much – they can’t physically force you to work hard.

So the next time I run off to touch three trees, instead of ambling back, I put a little bit more effort in. Not trying to get to the front of the pack, by any means, but at least trying not to be last. Throughout the rest of the night, that’s my goal – to not end up last. And at the end of it, I feel pretty good. I didn’t always succeed, but usually I did. For someone like me, an absolute exercise-a-phobe, that’s pretty good going.

That’s what this is all about really. Setting yourself realistic goals. Slowly, I’m feeling like I’m taking charge of my body again, with the not smoking, the eating, the exercise. It’s a pretty good feeling. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be trying to make it to first place; but for now, not coming last will do just fine.

Edit: Some people on Facebook asked what place I came in the stand-up competition – it was, of course, last. Jenny would be so upset.