So, continuing in my work pounding the pavement (Not with a jackhammer, fool, I’ve started running) I went for a half-hour run last night. It wasn’t easy, and I felt like I was going to drop dead at the end of it, but I found a rhythm while I was running, and was able to run a fair distance and keep the running up for half an hour without a break. I felt both good and bad afterwards. I felt good that I can do this now. I felt good that I’d gone the whole way, even though it was hard, and I didn’t like it at times, and it was hot and I still went. But I also felt bad that I have left it so long. I know I’m better placed now to start it and keep it up, but I could so easily have done this a year ago. All it would have taken was a bit of willpower. Because once you get out there a few times, you enjoy it. The endorphins everyone raves about after exercise? Real. I felt great this morning. A little weary, but great. And raring to go again.
Anyway. Using the power of Whereis, a ruler and my calculator, I think I ran 4km last night in 30 minutes. Which is slow. Faster than previously, but slow. By my reckoning, at that pace it would take me almost a full workday to complete a full marathon. But it wasn’t about pace, it was about running for the full half an hour, and that meant slowing down. Slowing down to the pace of a tortoise, sure. But it meant I kept that heart rate of mine consistently up for half an hour. It was definitely up at the end of it, I can tell you. And if I can keep this up over Guts-A-Thon 07'/Christmas, then I might not enter January feeling like I have to start again – I’ll just be continuing the good work.
So if you see a girl with a bright blue Ford T-Shirt (It’s a work shirt. And no, I don’t work for Ford. Long story) with pigtails and glasses crawling/running around the North East, give her a cheer. It might not be me, but it’ll make whoever it is feel better about killing themselves in the name of fitness.
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