Well, what a pleasant surprise that was. I survived. I always felt I would actually, as I still retain the 17-yr-old me’s belief in my immortality. Mind you, mere survival is not really the aim of this exercise. I am looking to feel fitter and generally glow with health and vitality. I want to get up from the settee without saying ‘ooh’ in a slightly absent-minded/pained way; I want to sit down on the settee without saying ‘ah’ as if I’m getting into a warm bath or have found the exact spot on my back that itches.
Anyway, the run. The beauty of it was that we didn’t actually run all the time. How good is that? I had assumed that, like yoga, my friends were miles ahead of me in running terms (literally). Instead they stopped every now and then and walk bits. Well, they say this is what they do all the time. Come to think of it, they often stopped and waited for me to catch up and said things like, “Are you OK?”. At times I think I was a bit like the old dog in that Disney (?) film The Incredible Journey, that always lagged behind and right at the end was the last of the pets to appear at the crest of the hill while the family waited tearfully and fearfully. Of course, just as every parent in the cinema is wishing they’d taken the kids to see something, anything else (The Exorcist or Jaws maybe), the pooch appears and then everyone is in bits.
But there you are. I ran 7 km. Well, some of it. And when I say ‘ran’ I’m talking about very steady (all right , slow) jogging. It was good to do it with a group, because then there is someone to tell you if you have gone a funny colour. I shall do another solo effort midweek and rejoin my friends for another 7k (we runners don’t bother with the final ‘m’) next weekend.
SteveTLooksBack 