According to an article I’ve just been reading on the BBC website, funding is going to be cut for school sports. Now, I know that running isn’t everyone’s bag but surely it’s the most cost-effective sport going: all you need is a playing field. Hold on a minute – we had one of those a few years back before we sold it off to a developer to build houses on to make a bit of cash.

So, I’m predicting that in 10 to 20 years time, we might not be collecting as many medals in sailing or rowing, but maybe this could mark the start of a new era in British distance running? We can but dream.

This has all made me take a recovery jog down memory lane to relive some of my earliest memories of feeling out of breath and humiliated. However much money that we throw at equipment for sports to try and encourage youngsters to put down their computer games and get active, there’s still going to be the kids, like me, who really, really don’t want to do it.

I came to love the feeling of exerting myself into a huge, sweaty, red-face heap only a few years ago. Surprisingly, teenagers don’t want to do this. The years between about 10 and 18 are some of the most difficult, self-conscious, awkward feeling times of a person’s life. It is not a good time to be forced to get changed in front of your peers and run around. I’d started off well at Primary School, signing up for out of hours football coaching and even winning a running race at sports day. But by the time I hit 11 and the big weird world of Secondary School that all came to an end. Luckily I had a note from my mum excusing me from PE that I kept crease free and presented to teachers for a good two years.

If I could go back and talk to my 15-year-old self I would tell her to put her trainers on and get moving, that a bit of exercise would help sort out my spotty skin and that 99% of the people in my PE class I wouldn’t give a damn about or even see again in three years time. But I doubt I would have listened even to myself.