I have a secret work-out weapon. It’s not a trainer, it’s not an extreme diet. It’s not a competitive running buddy.
No, the trick up my sleeve is three-foot tall and very loud.
It’s my daughter.
Our weird work-out alliance began completely accidentally. As a busy woman (is there any other kind?), there’s only one time of day that works for me to exercise, and it’s called Stupid O’ Clock. Uncomfortably, that’s also the time my daughter likes to get up.
One morning, as I tried to creep out of the house under the cover of darkness and silence, Matilda busted me.
‘Where are you going?’ she demanded. ‘And can I come?’
There’s nothing to say about the argument that followed that question, other than that it’s impossible to win a fight with a six-year-old when you are trying not to wake up your entire house.
And so, Matilda and I started running together.
Sydney weather conditions are no deterrent for us! Image: Supplied.
Now before you start wondering if I’ve birthed a prodigy, let’s get one thing straight - my idea of running and her idea of running are not the same.