Or should I say, micro-preemie steps. I wanted to go for a run yesterday night, but K was exhausted and decided that he was going to bed at 10pm. He decreed that it was “not safe” for me to go running alone – not sure whether he was worried I would collapse after 100 metres or about unsavoury characters in the neighbourhood – so I ended up sitting in front of Glee and stitching until midnight after reading up about how to get started on a running routine for fitness. This morning, he informs me that we will start tonight, but that I will “walk 1 minute, run 1 minute” and do seven repetitions of that. “So only 14 minutes?” …