About a year and 9 months ago I decided I wanted to try running to complement my cycling and help me lose some weight. After running (and walking) 3 miles in about 33 minutes I swore I would never run again. It just hurt too much and wasn’t any fun…and cycling may have hurt but it was still fun. Today, inexplicably, I went back on my promise. I had wanted to go on a bike ride but my son begged me not to go and leave him home. I had been thinking I might try running again, especially for weekday workouts because it doesn’t take nearly as long (to abuse myself) as riding my bike. Running can’t replace a cycling workout for my goal to finish a 100 mile ride this year, but it can’t hurt.
So I got my son to ride along behind me on his bike as I ran. He was prepared to cheer me on. Actually he wanted a whistle so he could blow it at me to keep me going—couldn’t find one. If I'd given him a stick I am sure he would have been glad to smack my butt to keep me moving but I didn't even suggest that one. It was an elaborate set up for what turned out to be a pretty short little adventure. I thought I had mapped out a 3 mile route, but it turned out to be a 2 mile route. No matter, two miles was enough. I probably could have really tortured myself and made another mile but honestly I really just didn’t want it that bad. I was low on juice and another mile would have been pretty nasty. When I checked the time I found I had done the 2 miles in about 12 minutes. I knew then why I was out of juice. I am not in any kind of endurance shape to sustain a 6 minute mile pace for very long…obviously not much longer than 2 miles. Now if I had been thinking and paying attention, I could have adjusted my pace and probably finished the 3 miles.
Next time I will open brain and turn on before I run.
