How to start running (from someone who started about eleven times)
My first run nearly killed me
July 2007. I was living in New Zealand, I was overweight, and I'd decided I was going to become a runner. I had a Nike+ sensor tucked in my shoe talking to an iPod Mini, which at the time felt like NASA-level technology.
I ran about a mile. It took me just under 20 minutes. I spent most of it purple, and the rest of it wondering whether this was how it ended.
A few months later I was standing at the end of the Auckland Half Marathon, eating a banana, having run 1:32. Which sounds brilliant, until I tell you how I got there: I tried to make every single run faster than the one before, and slogged my guts out every time. It worked, briefly. Then life got in the way, the injuries kept coming, and I stopped. That was attempt number one.
I'd hated running at school, where it was mostly handed out as a punishment. So if you're reading this thinking "I'm not a runner", I get it. I wasn't either. I just kept starting again until it stuck. It took me about 16 years and roughly eleven attempts, so you're welcome to skip a few of mine.
This is everything I'd tell you if you asked me over a coffee how to start running.
Before your first run (the bit everyone skips)
You don't need much. You need less than the internet thinks you need. I've written a whole post on what you actually need to start, but here's the short version:
Get decent running shoes. This is the one thing worth spending on. If you can, go to a running shop and get properly fitted. Old gym trainers from 2014 don't count, however much you love them.
Pick a route you can't get lost on. A loop round the block or the local park is perfect. Flat is your friend for now.
Choose a time you'll actually keep. Early morning, lunchtime, after the kids are in bed. The best time to run is the one that still happens on a rubbish Wednesday.
Tell someone. A partner, a mate, a group chat. If nobody knows you've started, nobody notices when you stop.
Go to the loo before you leave. Trust me. I learned this one at the Sydney Half, in white shorts. I've worn black shorts ever since.
Your first run: walk more than you think
Here's the thing most beginners get wrong. They head out the door and try to run continuously, as fast as they can, until they can't. Which, for most of us, is about four minutes. Then they walk home, feeling awful, convinced they're "not built for running".
You're not broken. You just went too fast.
Start with run-walk intervals instead:
Walk briskly for five minutes to warm up.
Then run gently for 1 minute and walk for 2 minutes.
Repeat that 6 to 8 times.
Walk for five minutes to cool down.
That's it. That's a run. It counts. It counts just as much as a marathon, because it's the one that gets you to the next one.
How fast should a beginner run?
Slower than you think. Then slower again.
My test is simple: can I still sing? Or at least hold a conversation in full sentences. If you can only manage single words between gasps, slow down or walk. When I started I was running at around 10 minutes per kilometre, and that was fine. Most of my running today is still easy, and the slow stuff is what got me from that first purple mile to a 2:45 marathon at Loch Ness.
Slow down to go fast. It sounds like nonsense. It isn't.
Am I going too fast?
Next time you're running, try singing a line of your favourite song. How did it go?
A simple 8-week plan to run 20 minutes
Three sessions a week, with a rest day in between each one. Every session starts and ends with five minutes of brisk walking. If a week feels too hard, repeat it. Nobody's handing out medals for finishing in eight weeks rather than ten.
8 weeks to a 20-minute run
Three runs a week, rest day in between. Tick them off as you go. It saves on this device.
Week 1: the first step
Run 1 minute, walk 2 minutes. Repeat 8 times.
Run so slowly it feels a bit silly. That's the right speed.
Week 2: doubling up
Run 2 minutes, walk 2 minutes. Repeat 6 times.
Legs heavy? Completely normal. They'll catch up.
Week 3: finding a rhythm
Run 3 minutes, walk 2 minutes. Repeat 5 times.
One run will feel easy, the next one awful. Not every session has to be amazing.
Week 4: five-minute runs
Run 5 minutes, walk 2 minutes. Repeat 4 times.
Life will try to get in the way about now. Don't miss twice.
Week 5: the big jump
Run 8 minutes, walk 2 minutes. Repeat 3 times.
Can you still sing? If not, slow down. Nobody's timing you.
Week 6: ten minutes at a time
Run 10 minutes, walk 2 minutes, run 10 minutes, walk 2 minutes, then run 5 more minutes.
If this feels too much, repeat week 5. Ten weeks is still a win.
Week 7: nearly there
Run 15 minutes, walk 2 minutes, run 5 minutes.
Fifteen minutes without stopping. Remember your first one-minute run?
Week 8: twenty minutes
Run 20 minutes without stopping. Then have a little sit down. You've earned it.
You're officially someone who runs. Tell someone. Then book a parkrun.
Warm up
5:00
Next: run 1:00
Keep this page open. Your screen will try to stay on.
If you'd like something with a voice in your ear, the NHS Couch to 5K app is free and brilliant, and it follows the same idea over nine weeks.
What it'll actually feel like
Nobody tells you this bit, so I will.
Weeks one and two: your legs will feel heavy and your lungs will feel like they belong to someone else. Completely normal.
Around week three: a run will suddenly feel easier and you'll think you've cracked it. The next one will feel awful. Also normal. Not every session has to be amazing.
Around week four or five: life will get in the way. A busy week, a cold, the weather doing its best impression of the end of the world. That's not the end of it. Pick up where you left off, not where you think you should be.
Week eight: you won't feel transformed. You'll feel like someone who runs a few times a week. Which is exactly the point.
Some soreness in your muscles a day or two after a run is normal. Sharp pain, pain that gets worse as you run, or anything that makes you limp isn't. Stop, rest, and if it doesn't settle, see a physio.
The mistakes I made (so you don't have to)
I've made every one of these. Most of them more than once. Usually in January.
Trying to beat the last run, every run. When I first started, every run had to be faster than the one before. I was constantly injured. Your body needs time to catch up with your enthusiasm.
Doing too much too soon. Five sessions in the first week feels heroic. By week three it feels like a mistake. Three is plenty.
Ignoring the niggles. I'm a world expert in runner's limp logic: notice the pain, decide it's probably fine, carry on. It is rarely fine.
Comparing myself to everyone on Strava. Comparison is the thief of joy. The person posting a 5K in 22 minutes is not you, and they also started somewhere.
Waiting to feel motivated. Motivation turns up after you've started, not before. Some days you just buy a ticket on the struggle bus, get it done, and go home.
Doing it on my own. For years, I kept it all to myself. So when I stopped, nobody noticed. Including me, for about seven months.
Do you need to stretch, warm up or do strength work?
A brisk five-minute walk is a perfectly good warm-up for a beginner. You don't need a 20-minute routine you saw on YouTube.
Strength work is worth adding once running feels a bit more normal. Ten to twenty minutes, twice a week, of squats, lunges, calf raises and planks will help your legs cope with the extra miles. I avoided the gym for years, and strength work changed my running more than any plan ever did.
Why the start is the easy bit
The reality is, starting running isn't the hard part. I started loads of times. In 2019 I logged ten runs all year, and four of them were in January. The hard part was never starting. It was stringing two good weeks together.
What finally changed it for me wasn't a better plan or new trainers. It was people. Sharing my training online meant someone noticed when I didn't show up, and that was enough to get me out of the door on the days I really didn't fancy it. I've now been consistent for over 250 weeks.
If you have a wobble, that's fine. Missing a week isn't the problem. Not coming back is.
Where the Club fits in
This is exactly what I built the PKS Training Club for. It's a small online community for complete beginners, people starting again and runners who've stopped improving.
Every Monday you make a promise small enough to keep, like "three run-walks this week". Every day you log what you did, and a walk counts. On Wednesday there's a live lunchtime session, and there are short guides on things like choosing your first race and buying running shoes. On Saturday we share the highs and the lows. And if you go quiet, someone will notice. Usually me.
I'm opening 15 founding places at £20 a month, yours for as long as you stay a member. Get on the list and you'll be the first to hear when the doors open.
Now go and find your shoes. They're probably under the bed, behind the ones you never wear.
Have a great week, folks.
Paul
The information in this post is general guidance. If you have pain, an injury or a medical concern, speak to your GP or a physio before starting something new.
