While I was running around Battersea Park this morning, I started thinking about how much I hated exercise and sport as a child, and then well into adulthood. My younger self would have been amazed, and possibly appalled, to see me pounding along paths between trees and gambolling down grassy knolls.

Running isn’t my favourite form of exercise, but I’m impressed that at my not-so-tender age I can run for stretches without collapsing or struggling for breath. I remember an occasion five or so years ago when, after a night out, Nick and I were running to catch the last train and it felt like my lungs were going to burst. That was a wake up call, and I started joining Nick when he went for a run in the park. For Nick, running is one of his favourite activities. He enjoyed running as a teenager and took it up again in his early fifties, a few years after he stopped smoking. On our runs, we alternate between running and fast walking, the latter mostly on the harder concrete or tarmacked surfaces, out of consideration for our middle-aged joints. And, as I’ve found with other forms of exercise, running often sparks up the brain cells. We’re lucky to live close to such a beautiful park, so we’re breathing fresh air (comparatively), soothing our eyes on green foliage and being serenaded by birdsong as we trot along.

In my schooldays, double PE on Friday was, for me, the worst way to end the week. Cross-country running was a death sentence. That, and hurdles. In netball, I nominally played wing defence and did my best to avoid the ball. Hockey was another horror show (who invented these sports???), where I hung around the edge of the field hoping that vicious ball or a wayward hockey stick wouldn’t come anywhere near me. The one physical activity I did enjoy was swimming, especially outside of the school context, and it’s still my favourite form of exercise.

I did learn to ride a bike as a child, but we lived in a hilly suburb and cycling uphill felt like too much hard work to me at that time. Somehow, early on, I’d convinced myself, or been convinced, that I was useless at physical activities, and participating in team sports especially filled me with dread. Then, a couple of years after I’d moved to London I bought a bike and started cycling to work. For over 20 years I cycled into or through central London, revelling in the freedom of those two wheels as I whizzed past stationary or crawling traffic. Nick came late to cycling and never gained the confidence to ride on the road, though we did for a period ride around the park together. I think that was when I finally found the confidence to stand up in the pedals and coast along at speed – what a thrill that was, and still is every time I manage that small feat of balance.

Since I’ve been working from home though, I cycle much less, but probably walk a lot more. Now there’s another form of physical activity I enjoy; shank’s pony, getting somewhere under my own steam, and at no cost other than wear and tear on footwear. This one does date back to childhood. I credit my rather powerful stride to trying to keep up with my older and taller brother during my Melbourne days. On the run this morning I also recalled, as a family, taking part in Walk Against Want on several occasions, to raise money for Community Aid Abroad (now Oxfam Australia). Which brings me neatly back to that run in the park this morning. Nick and I have pledged to run round Battersea Park every other day in September, as part of Freedom From Torture’s Journeys in Solidarity challenge. You can find out more and follow our progress on our fundraising page.