I’m Not A Runner

# How I Started Running (And How You Can Too)

I couldn't run 30 metres.

That's the honest truth. I was in my early 20s, living on a residential street with overhead powerlines, and I decided one day that I wanted to start running. Just like that. No plan. No experience. No idea what I was doing.

I wore normal clothes. And within minutes, I realised something terrifying: my capacity was so low that I could only run between powerlines. That's maybe 20 metres. Thirty if I was pushing it. Then I'd have to stop.

I was gasping. Defeated. Flat out.

My cardiovascular fitness was basically non-existent. I hadn't done much sport growing up—a bit of netball here and there, but nothing serious. I wasn't an active person. I worked, I went home. I didn't have a foundation to build on. And now I was standing between power poles, completely wrecked after 30 metres, wondering how on earth I was ever going to become a runner.

But I didn't quit. I just changed my approach.

## The Interval Experiment

I started running intervals. Not the fancy kind. The tiny, embarrassing kind. I'd set up two apps on my phone—an interval timer and run keeper—and I'd do 30 seconds of running followed by 20 seconds of walking. Repeat.

That was my workout.

For a couple of weeks, that was enough. Small wins. Tiny progressions. I was actually doing it. But I also knew I needed something more than just my phone and my stubborn determination.

## The Game-Changer: Finding Your People

Then I found the Lazy Runners Club in Mackay.

This group existed for one reason: to teach you to run 5K. That's it. No elite athletes. No competitive vibe. Just women who wanted to learn.

Most of them were in their late 30s, 40s, and 50s. I was in my early 20s. On paper, we had nothing in common. But we were all at the exact same starting point—terrified, unfit, and determined. And that changed everything.

We did the same route every time. You knew where you were turning around. There were no surprises, no decisions to make mid-run. Just consistency. Just support. Just women showing up for each other, week after week.

And something shifted. My body adapted. My mind believed it was possible. The powerlines got further apart. The 30 metres became 50 metres, then 100 metres, then a full kilometre.

I went from gasping between power poles to running a 5K.

## What Actually Matters

Here's what I learned: capacity grows faster than you think. But not alone. And not without permission to start small.

You don't need a perfect fitness level to begin. You don't need expensive gear or a fancy gym. You need:

1. **Permission to start where you are.** Between powerlines. Thirty-second intervals. Whatever that looks like.

2. **A system that keeps you consistent.** The same route. The same time. The same people. Consistency beats intensity when you're building something.

3. **Your people.** Not someone better than you. Not someone judging you. Someone at your level who gets it. Who shows up. Who reminds you that you're not alone in this.

That's how you go from "I can't run 30 metres" to actually being a runner.

And that's exactly the philosophy behind Rhode Athletic too. I don't believe in compromise. I don't believe in choosing between how you look and how you feel. You deserve activewear that works with you, supports you, and makes you want to show up.

Start small. Find your people. Give it time.

Your capacity—for running, for fitness, for becoming the version of yourself you want to be—grows faster than you think.

🎀 Vanessa