Yesterday something important happened.
I’ve been running home, 5kms give or take, for a few months now. I average three, four times a week. Sometimes I meet Mrs Stu and the Kids halfway at the park.
This body of mine is not built to run. I’m a prop. Big. Heavy.
Yesterday I ran home, the original track along the roads, 5.1 kms according to Google Maps (heh heh), in the SUB 30 MINUTES bracket.
This is a big deal, HUGE, for me.
It’s not fast for most people who actually run. But for me, I’m getting better than I was. And being over 30 in chronological terms, over 110 in “well covered” terms, I’m stoked to be running a sub 30 minute 5kms.
Course, today I took it easy, ran light, didn’t push.
But my brain now knows I can do it. Push harder.
I might be a puffing Dad, but for a while I’m a better runner than I used to be.
For almost a week now, I’ve run home from work in the afternoons. It’s about five kilometers. It takes me about thirty-five minutes. This is pretty slow, even for a big guy like myself. I’ll be happy if, in time, I can knock ten minutes off that time.
The phrase, Little By Little, has been a revelation during these runs. Actually thinking it, mentally concentrating on it when things get tough (and when you’re not that fit, and it get’s tough five minutes in, you know it). “Little by Little”.
It keeps me going, so that even if I’m running not much faster than a walk, in my mind it’s still running. And it’s not stopping. Not walking. Although I do appreciate very much a good walk, I’m specifically drawing a line between the two.
And it’ll get better, barring injury or some other big life change. My body should strengthen and gain endurance. I’ll never be fast, but I’ll get faster than I am now.
What’s it all in aid of? Keeping fit. Feeling the burn (I love that good-sore muscle burn). And most of all, breathing life into my dreams of playing for the Wallabies. Ahem.
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