Today was my second attempt at running since the last attempt, which was roughly two weeks ago. That last run’s discomfort was largely obscured by the oh my god I’m actually running novelty. It’s been over three months since I’ve run, after all. But I knew based on that experience that today’s run wouldn’t be a good run. I figured it would be mediocre. I didn’t expect to actually hate the experience.
I understand now why most people who take up recreational running don’t get beyond January 7th. Being a new runner sucks. That’s essentially what I am now: a new runner. I can imagine someone thinking, “People do this for fun? They find it gives them pleasure? But how?”
I know that my aerobic system is in great shape, but when it comes to running I’m like a jet engine attached to a Radio Flyer. My body is not used to running and everything else I’ve been doing does not translate, at least at this point in time. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds and it’s like running on stilts. (Plus my legs, which have been permanently browned since 2007, have gone all Johnny Winter on me in just three months of sunless existence. Thank goodness tights season is on the way.)
I ran around a baseball field again. Nice, soft grass. Jonathan and I went together and he was eager to run with me, despite my foul mood. I’m shocked he hasn’t left me, since I complain basically all the time. He told me his second run back (I think he’s on his fourth or fifth) was the worst one. It will get better. Jeez, I hope so.
I had to remind myself that I’d already done two hours of hard exercise just a few hours before, on top of hard work in the pool yesterday, on top of whaling on my legs with 90 minutes of weight work on Tuesday.
I managed 25 minutes. I’ll try 30 next time. Probably on Sunday or Monday.
We did see a man who appeared to be drunk chasing some Canadian geese around at the edge of the field. That was funny.