I look at myself every day, which probably makes me one of the least reliable people to notice gradual change. I can see the numbers moving and feel the difference when I exercise, but putting these two parkrun photos beside each other gave me a reason to stop and take some of it in. May 2025 on the left, September 2026 on the right. Two moments on the same journey, with rather a lot of life between them.
The dates span sixteen months, although the changes I’ve been documenting here began much more recently. I wouldn’t want these pictures to suggest sixteen months of steady, uninterrupted progress. What they do give me is a chance to recognise something that can be difficult to see when I’m busy thinking about how far I still want to go.
There’s something else I notice about the earlier photo, too: I was already out there trying. That effort deserves some credit.
It’s been nine days since my last update, and quite a lot has fitted into them. There’s been a bike ride with my wife, a gym session followed by a 5km run home, regular structured sessions on Zwift and an almost 50km family cycle ride. That last one included an accidental cake at the halfway point. I ordered a black coffee, there was a misunderstanding, and with a huge queue behind me I decided to enjoy the cake. A perfectly acceptable addition to a family day out.
That’s part of what I’m enjoying at the moment. Activity is finding its way into ordinary life: time together, a session while my daughter is at athletics, a reason to get outside. Those things make the routine feel like something I want to keep.
The latest parkrun was a particularly encouraging moment. I finished eight minutes quicker than my previous attempt and set a new personal best at that event, taking three and a half minutes off my previous best from February 2025. That’s a result I’m incredibly proud of, but even the excitement of a new PB was overshadowed by how it felt to finish among other runners.
I’ve written before about feeling self-conscious when exercising in public. Being in the middle of that finishing bustle, after knowing how exposed I could feel when I was further behind, meant more to me than I expected. Every finish counts, at every pace. This particular finish gave me a sense of confidence I’d been missing, and that stayed with me just as much as the time.
My wife has been a big part of the recent running progress. Before our latest run in the woods, she asked what I wanted from being paced. I wanted to set the pace for the first kilometre, then let her help me make each one a little quicker. Despite the undulating route, we completed the 5km faster than I’d managed on a running track only three weeks earlier. Having her beside me keeping me going made a real difference.
Food tracking has settled into a routine as well. I’m continuing to log what I eat, pay attention to portions and keep an eye on protein. There’s some estimation involved, so I’m not pretending the record is perfect, but it is helping me understand my habits. The weight figures on the progress page are encouraging; the bigger question for me is how these habits fit into a life I can keep living.
Some parts still need work. I’ve only managed one gym session in this period, and getting myself there remains surprisingly difficult. There’s also a swimming pool about 500 metres from home that I’m very good at living near and less good at visiting. Enjoying running and cycling hasn’t automatically made me enthusiastic about every other form of exercise.
I’m also trying to give my enthusiasm some boundaries. I remember the running mileage I used to do, and it’s tempting to chase it. For now, I’m deliberately limiting my running rather than treating every good day as an invitation to add more. Cycling gives me another activity I enjoy, and making strength training more regular is something I want to work on.
What excites me most is where this could lead in everyday life. I’d love cycling to work to feel comfortable and ordinary: some movement built into the day, followed by time to clear my head on the way home. Being able to do more with my family matters to me. So does feeling more at ease in myself.
That last part can be difficult to explain. I was unhappy with where I’d found myself, and it was affecting several areas of my life. I can be honest about that while also recognising that I deserved kindness then, just as I do now. The person in the white T-shirt didn’t need criticism. He needed the space, support and opportunity to make changes he could sustain.
If you recognise some of your own experience in this, I hope there’s encouragement here. Your next step might look completely different from mine, and it can still be something worth feeling proud of. I’ve needed support, I still struggle with parts of the routine, and there’s plenty I’m figuring out as I go.
For now, these photos give me something to come back to when progress feels harder to notice. I can see that things are changing. More importantly, I’m beginning to feel more comfortable being the person who is out there trying.
