Last month, as I watched my 62-year-old, triple-heart-bypassed, fit-as-a-fiddle father bound through a half-marathon in just over two hours, I realised that Springsteen was right, I probably was born to run.
OK, I manage regular trots around the local park with the speed and grace of a wobbly toddler, but each step feels decidedly manual, my mind focused on placing one foot in front of the other, on forcing my lungs to suck in enough air to keep me upright.
Seasoned runners speak wistfully of getting in the zone, of running as meditation or going into autopilot, powering through the miles. I'm at the point where I fear I'll never manage to burst through that wall, never reach the place where endorphins kick in and carry you, like Gaga in an egg, through the 5k mark.
And so, I turn to you, Running Blog community. Give me your tips for beating running boredom, smashing through my mental running block and increasing my distance past that a paltry 5k. I've already announced on Facebook that next year I'll complete the Great North Run alongside my dad and I'm going to need all the help I can get.
