Day Six. Jogging Hurts.

March 17, 2011 § 2 Comments

Running is for assholes. And on day 6, I attempted to be one.

Running a 5K is on my brainstormed-bucket list of new activities I can pursue this year. Never having run before, like never having ran a whole mile before, I had to start somewhere. So Patrick, fresh off his first 5K the day before, suggested I go jogging with him. He even mentally prepared a route around our neighborhood that wouldn’t involve many uphill struggles and was about ¾ miles. I’ll round up though. It was totally a mile.

I woke up feeling generally sore. We’d hiked Mt. Arabia Saturday and had our first kickball game of the season Sunday, so by Monday I had actually exercised. Patrick suggested I walk Murphy when I got up that morning, if I felt like I had the time and energy. He then mentioned that he and a friend would be going to lunch in about a half hour if I wanted to join. “So you want me to go now, right?” “If you think you have time…” I got the hint.

Murphy and I got back home, the first bout of mini exercise behind me, and I was seriously feeling the burn in my legs.  We went to Bell Street Burritos for lunch, so Patrick suggested we go on our jog about 6pm, to give us digestion time. Those burritos are huge and delicious, but I wouldn’t dare do any running just after having eaten one.

At 5pm we started our P. Hill-approved warm-up via the Wii Fit. Patrick was really into the game a couple of years ago. He lost like 20lbs doing the exercises with his Mii daily. I was impressed, but his achievements didn’t really motivate me to give it a whole-hearted attempt. He has a lot more self-control than I do. I, in turn, have a lazy conscious.

So after our Wii-led yoga routine, we set off. I quickly fell behind and starting wondering what I looked like running. You know how some people look really goofy? I’m sure I would fall into that category, legs all akimbo, arms a little flailing, and mouth hanging wide open catching air. I  had to keep my eyes firmly glued to the sidewalk lest klutzy me trip over a stick or rock or my own feet. After the first stretch of about 200 feet I slowed to a near walk. My throat and chest were burning. It felt as though I had the worst chest cold, and it was voluntary to boot!

I made it home in about 15 minutes. I walked up the final hill. And even though Patrick ended up running almost four miles that day and making me feel like a wuss, I still felt like I had accomplished something. At least now that my breathing has returned to normal.

Four Mile Sweat


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