The other day I was extra early for one of my running groups. I’d gone to collect some train tickets on the way which left me sitting in the park for 10 minutes before my runners arrived.

There’s always a lot of park life to watch in Finsbury Park to keep me entertained: two old guys having a dance off; people having arguments; the fair setting up. Mostly, though, I watch the runners.

There’s a lot of runners out at the moment, which is great. Maybe they’ve been out and about all year (a few wore London Marathon shirts that suggest they have) or maybe they’ve been lured out by the nicer weather.

Some stride confidently round the park, up and down hills glancing at their watches. Other run less confidently, headphones on, phone often in their hand with eyes flicking back no forth between the two meters ahead of them and the time on the clock.

I wonder, as I sit in the park, what it would be like if I was them, if I was starting running now.

Running was hard for me when I started. I managed 1.14km on my first ever run (so hard was it that I wrote it down to two decimal places wanting to capture every step). I didn’t have friends who ran, so I soldiered on by myself, finding it hard but seeing a little progress.

Eight years ago, when I started out, the world of running was quite different. There was no Instagram then and Twitter was still catching on. There weren’t gym selfies or Strava segments. How would those things have affected me? If my Instagram steam showed an endless supply of smiling, happy runners, bounding up hills and not breaking a sweat. If all I saw was abs in gym mirrors, make-up unmoved by perspiration, medicine ball in hand?

How would I have felt when it seemed like the whole world could run except me who was still shuffling along towards that goal of 10 mins non-stop running? I post pictures myself, smiling away on a run, because often that’s how it makes me feel. But not every run is fun and not every run is easy. I try to show a balanced, less-than-perfect, messy view of running sometimes, because running is messy and hard as well as being fun and brilliant.

In some ways I think it’s harder to start running now, but in other ways it’s easier. There’s more races, more inclusivity and more groups aimed at those just starting out. I started my beginners group three years ago and have helped hundreds of women start or return to running, and mine isn’t the only one. I wanted to make it the sort of group that I’d have wanted when I was just starting out – a group of other beginners like me, willing to work hard and not wanting to be patronised.

However long we’ve been running, eight days or eight years, we all find running hard sometimes. And some days we don’t want to do it. It’s important to remember that, whether you’re just starting out or completing your 100th marathon, and we have a responsibility to show it.