Ruth Walker: You can’t run in three-and-a-half-inch Gucci heels and borrowed diamonds

GOOD intentions are a dangerous concept. They make you agree to things you would otherwise be sensible enough to refuse out of hand, knowing full well you’re not up to the task.

They also have a nasty habit of coming back to bite you on the lardy, out of shape bahookie that has seen far too many carbs (I blame Scotland on Sunday’s latest culinary development: Cake Friday) and not nearly enough jiggling around Arthur’s Seat.

Good intentions are why you will find me today, standing in the middle of Holyrood Park, whatever the weather, sporting a supremely unattractive hi-vis vest covered in various sponsors’ stickers, preparing to puff my way around the Great Edinburgh Run. All in the name of Radio Forth’s Cash For Kids charity. Damn you, good intentions. When will I ever learn?

Don’t get me wrong. Training was going well (notwithstanding the weekly tray-bake bonanza, of course). I’d been getting at least one long run in a week and two or three short ones, plus my weekly session with Fit Guy. Impressive, no? Then work got really busy. Then there was a burst of champagne receptions I had to attend. Then there was a burst of really bad weather I had to avoid. Then there was London Fashion Week (everyone knows you can’t run in 3∫in Gucci heels and borrowed Hamilton & Inches diamonds while clutching a Mulberry goodie bag). So here I am, feeling desperately unprepared and rather queasy. I think I might need the toilet too. It’s a situation no amount of Lucozade Sport can sort out.

“How’s the training going?” I ask my 10K mates in the office. “Great!” enthuses Running Man, before explaining in great detail his routes, times and varying gradients. He’s aiming to beat his PB of 42 minutes, and so far he’s on track. I thinks I might cry.

“How’s the training going?” I ask the girls in the canteen. “Not great,” they sigh. “I’ve had a really bad cold/been working really hard/haven’t made it out as much as I’d planned/been eating too much cake.” I nod sympathetically and feel a bit better.

It’s ironic, then, that while dreading this 10K, I have somehow signed up for my first half-marathon? Hey, it’s rock ’n’ roll, people. A UK first. How could I resist?

Billed as a 13.1-mile block party, the rock ’n’ roll marathon (www.competitor.com) comes to Edinburgh in April and will feature the Red Hot Chilli Pipers providing a fittingly rousing send-off at the start, then various other live bands at each mile along the route. Participants are encouraged to dress up as rock ’n’ roll icons.

It’s a party. Ergo, it’ll be fun, right?

I won’t dress up. That’s one lesson I have learned. Just before last year’s Great Edinburgh Run, I had been fitted with a luscious head of long, curly blonde hair extensions. Which looked great (if a little mermaidesque), but must have contributed no small amount of drag to my velocity. (Talking of hair, good luck to my chums at Cheynes, who are also running for charity.) So now my head has been shorn, I’m looking to shave some time off my PB too. I’m aiming for 50 minutes. If I make it, it will be cause for some serious celebration. Cake anyone? n