It's coming to an end, and though I first have to go through the dread of Christmas shopping, the holidays, and fake cheer, 2009 will finally give way to a feeling of newness and fresh starts.

Unlike most people, I love January. I don't get the blues during the coldest month of the year. I don't mind that it's the month with the least social activities; it's the best time for economic recovery.

And unlike the majority of normal people I love January because it is the furthest month away from Christmas.

Usually, on New Year's Eve, I can be found mentally (and sometimes even physically) bidding good riddance to the old year. For some inexplicable reason I always think that the next year is going to be better and fuller. Perhaps it's the optimist or the obstinate in me, but no matter how wrong I was last year, I still think I'm right about the next one.

Having said that, 2009 marked an unmatchable landmark for me! This was the first year in my entire life during which I put on enough weight to be visible to the naked eye. What's more strange (at least for those who know me) 2009 was also the first year during which I got off the sofa and did something about it. Though initially entirely motivated by vanity, somewhere along the line I found myself running further, faster and more often than I needed to just to keep the weight off.

I even engaged a world class coach to guide me, bought a state of the art GPS enabled heart rate monitor, and invested in the best running shoes money can buy. Running suddenly turned into a ‘feel good' activity and though on some subconscious level I'm still running away from the fat that was forming around my thighs, waist and ear lobes, I am now also running for pleasure.

After running at my own pace for a few weeks, my world class coach sent me my first running schedule. It read as follows:

Day 1 - run for 60 minutes

Day 2 - run for 45 minutes with the middle 15 minutes being just a little harder.

Day 3 - warm-up for 10 minutes, then follow up with 6 laps of 30 seconds moving your legs as quickly as possible with 60 seconds rest in between.

Day 4 - Repeat 3rd session.

In reality, it SHOULD have read: Day 1 - run for 60 minutes. You won't feel too bad doing this because I did not specify what heart rate zone you need to stick to. You will find that none of your internal organs will bounce out of your mouth, except of course for the first ten minutes during which you will overestimate your strength just because you now have a world class trainer to coach you. As unrelated as this is to your strength and stamina, you will still push your heart rate to around 180beats per minute until you realise that you can't sustain this... you fool.

Day 2 - run for 45 minutes with the middle 15 minutes being just a little harder. You will spend the middle 15 minutes in a continuous mental negotiation, wondering what's hard and what isn't. Never in your life did you think that one simple word could cause you such dilemma and distress. You will finally decide that 162 beats per minute is as hard as you can go for that duration! At 13mins and 16seconds you're blaspheming my name but it's ok I'm all the way in the UK, so blaspheme away! Ps. Talking whilst running does not help.

Day 3 - warm-up for 10 minutes, then follow up with 6 laps of 30 seconds moving your legs as quickly as possible with 60 seconds rest in between. The first ten minutes will be the best of your day. Upon the 3rd 30second lap you will be asking the Gods to shoot you down or for a bolt of lightning to put you out of your misery. You will need to sit down to rest as an alternative to fainting and making a complete fool of yourself on the Sliema promenade. You will be convinced that they can hear you breathing from Sicily and you will spend the next two days in agony. Your shins will kill you and you will think you're growing a third leg! You're not! Get off your behind and repeat the third session!

Day 4 - Repeat 3rd session. If you're brave enough you'll attempt this but you'll probably cheat all along. I did repeat it and I did cheat all along, then last Sunday I took part in the President's Charity Fun Run.

It was quite an experience because my close friends fall into two extreme categories - some are top athletes who consider 7km a short unchallenging distance and therefore a complete waste of their time, and the rest are party animals who could never get themselves up that early on a Sunday morning to walk a meter, let alone run 7km. So I went prepared to brave the run alone.

Having only just started running I had never covered more than 5km before, but I thought that the crowd would keep me going those extra 2km. I decided that no matter what happened I would make it to the end. Deep down I knew I would be totally disappointed in myself had I to walk in last or even having to stop to walk at all.

Thankfully, I met another friend who kindly took me under her wing throughout the race. Though against my better judgement I ran at her pace and made it to the finish line. Over 5000 people ran, jogged or walked for charity. Old, young, disabled, black, white...it takes all sorts.

As soppy as it might sound, I was touched that at least for that hour there were no boundaries, and there was no material gain for anyone. People pushed wheelchairs, dogs pulled their owners, competing companies sponsored their employees, and we all ran side by side just for the fun of it. Huffing and puffing, sweating and hurting brought everyone together....what a great way to end the year!