DAY one of my training and I'm raring to go as I drive home from work at 6.30pm.

The plan: Light meal of chicken followed by a two-mile run. What could be simpler?

"I really fancy chips, peas and gravy," proclaimed my wife Sharon from the passenger seat. The kids, unsurprisingly, supported the off-the-cuff suggestion like it was Christmas Day.

Chippy tea ... and it's not even a Friday!

This is going to be harder than I figured.

Fortunately the Gods were smiling down on me. Chippy lady had only put one carton of chips, peas and gravy in the bag instead of two, forcing myself and Sharon to share.

Ten minutes later, Tesco man arrives with our weekly online shop, and the first bag I grab is filled with eight cans of Stella and a bottle of wine. Temptation everywhere!

I log on to Facebook, and the top status from one of my friends reads: "Going into hospital to have an operation on my hip...who said running was good for you!"

There's somebody up on high trying to tell me something here. I was half-expecting my trainers to spontaneously combust, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

But this is day one, and if I can't get motivated now, I never will.

The running kit is on at last - well, beige swimming shorts - and I'm heading for the start.

I pre-set the iPod on to an 80s mega-mix, and set off on my first run, Rick Astley blaring at full volume.

The advice for any runners on the official Pennine Lancashire 10K website is to take it easy, building up the distance over the coming months.

I run comfortably for a mile, mainly because it's downhill, turn around and do the return journey, this time uphill.

My breathing becomes more laboured with a quarter of a mile to go, and my brain - like a devil on my shoulder - is already telling me to stop and walk the final 400 yards.

I keep going to the end, finishing my first run, but I already know this is going to be as much a psychological battle as a physical one ... with or without Rick Astley.