Time – 58:36
Distance – 5.10 miles
Pace – 11:30 min/mi
Elevation – 226 ft.
Relaxing easy run tonight. Felt good so I took the long way home, which turned into 5+ miles. Got my new Hoka One One Clifton 3’s today, and it’s true: they are like running on marshmallows. Very comfortable shoes. I was worried that the smaller drop (the height difference between the front of the shoe and the back – i.e. the downward tilt of the shoe towards the toe) would cause Achilles pain, but I’m good. I can keep running in these for a while. Going to try and squeeze in the long run tomorrow morning, maybe with the folks at RunWell.
Fear of the Fat Kid or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Run
Being the classic fat kid, I hated running in P.E., when I was playing basketball, or pretty much any other time. It wasn’t fun, I suffered from Exercise-induced Asthma, and had all of the other fat guy ailments, like sweating profusely for hours after moving around or just getting warm, not enjoying the situation, and general grumpiness about the whole thing. Then I found triathlon.
I like to ride my bike. Like, a lot. Like, A LOT. It’s easy for me, the fat guy, to go fast. I get a bunch of freedom of movement and speed without all the work. And the wind in my face keeps the sweating down. Little victories everywhere.
Turns out I like to swim, too. My brothers and I spent a bunch of time in the pool as kids. I taught myself how to do laps in the pool (You get a bunch of time to think when staring at a lane line for 30–45 minutes, it’s actually quite relaxing).
So, I’ve got two of three sports down. I just need to figure out how to run. Enter pain, suffering, and a desire to do well. I started with the old Jeff Galloway run-walk method. I found a treadmill at the YMCA, set it for 1 minute of walking and then 1 minute of running, and made it go for 20 minutes. Then I did it again later that week. And twice again the next week. And the next. Then I went to 2 minutes of running, 1 minute of walking. Later I increased the running again. And again.
It got easier. I got faster, but not much. I kept going, and then I raced. And I raced again. Then I went 13.1 miles…twice…three times. I could do this, I realized. And if I kept running, good things would happen with my health.
But I didn’t keep running. I stopped for a while. Lots of reasons caused me to stop, and many were my own fault. The pounds packed on, and I didn’t run.
Now I can run again. I realize now that I like it. A lot. Like A LOT. And here I am with THE GOAL. I’m not hanging up the bike, but it’s getting relegated to “cross training” for the time being. 5 miles today, more tomorrow, and again on Sunday (if the legs feel good).
I’m not afraid of 100.