Years ago, an ancient creator of wisdom by the name of
John Michael Stipe wrote a piece of groundbreaking prose, which included the
immortal line “Everybody hurts sometimes”. And even though the original source
of this wise saying has been lost in the deep mists of 1992, the wisdom lives
on, even 22 years later.
The upshot of that deep and profound saying resonating
through the ages came back to me this morning as I started running. More than
on any other day, things were hurting from the start and they didn’t really
ease up too much as I went on. With strains in my right knee and left calf and
a blister on my foot it was a promising start.
Today was the first 28-minute run, designed to push me
towards 30 minutes next week and ultimately a 5km run (which still seems very
unlikely in the allotted time, mind, but it’s something to aim for). In the
back of my mind ever since I first started and looked at a route, there’s been
a very nice one that I’ve wanted to take which is just under 3 miles. Obviously
at the start that seemed far too far to be something I’d ever be able to
complete, but I thought it would be good to scope it out today.
Turns out I’m glad I did, because it was not the ideal
route for me.
Deep in the pre-iPoddian period of 1985, a predominant
thinker of the age gave us the words “If I only could, I’d be running up that
hill.” And although the singer may be no longer with us (note: I just checked
Wikipedia and apparently Kate Bush is fine so that’s a relief) her words live
on.
I have expressed before my general dislike of hills, and
so I was very disappointed to discover just how hilly this route was. By normal
standards, probably not too much but there were three separate uphill sections
to traverse, the third of which was by far the worst, perhaps due to how I was
dealing with it.
Often in the last minute of a run, Laura will encourage
me to pick up the pace and try and finish on a strong note. Unfortunately I
decided to take this tactic on the final hill, pushing myself to keep what
little pace I had going. I might even have accelerated a bit as I went up the
hill. It must have been less than a minute until I was at the top, but I’d
managed to use pretty much all the energy and breath I could muster.
Fortunately I was nearly done.
Oh, no, wait. I still had over ten minutes to go.
This tactical decision somewhat stunted my speed in the
latter part of the run, meaning that despite the extra three minutes of running
time I covered 2.6 miles, barely any more than last time. Looking at the route
now, though, I reckon I was doing about a 9½ minute mile before the hill, and
about a 13 minute mile afterwards, which is a deceleration from slow to
essentially glacial. At the end it was essentially walking pace.
But I did manage to finish once again, which I count as a
win. I was in a position where I would have to explain to Theodore Roosevelt
that I was no longer a pony – in short, I was exhausted. My warm-down walk at
the end was more of a hobble, since that was the best I could manage, and it
took me another thirty-five minutes after I got back just to have a shower and
get dressed.
The eminent historian and Nobel prize laureate Toni Basil
once said “Hey Mickey, you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind, hey
Mickey.” This doesn’t really relate to my situation in any way, but the words
are timeless and full of wisdom.
At the start of the podcast, Laura laughably told me that
I must be getting quite comfortable with long runs after the number I’ve been
on. That number, for statistics fans, is six after today. When I had my sixth
driving lesson, I wasn’t overly comfortable with driving. After six days at
university I didn’t feel particularly comfortable with undergraduate
mathematics. When I was six days old, my grasp of Shakespeare was at best
flimsy. In short, I’m not sure that six times is quite enough to be getting the
hang of something yet.
Seven, though, is another story (seven driving lessons
and I was Jensen Button, seven days at university and I was Leonhard Euler,
seven days old and I was William Shakespeare which made it a lot easier to
interpret my own babblings) so I’m sure by Wednesday I’ll be flying along like
Superman if he was forced to jog rather slowly instead of actually flying.
John Hurt (no adaptation required today)
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