
For those few of you who were kind enough to feign interest in my original Couch to 5k post, an update.
Week two and the jog/walk ratio has been cranked up a little: the jogs are longer (although definitely slower) whilst the walks have become a breathless stumble. Definitely felt that I was moving backwards today: towards the end I was overtaken by a tortoise yelling ‘Up yours Aesop!’
My knees, which have loudly complained about mis-use since my late twenties, are shredded and steadfastly refuse to support my body without reinforcements of their own, but I plod on (although, for saying so, I fear that I probably leave myself open to being sued by The Plodder’s Union). Throughout every run the mellifluous tones of the iridescent Ms Whiley assure me that it should all be getting easier, whilst I actually feel that death might be a release. I believe that my lungs may have been harvested in my sleep and replaced with those of an asthmatic shrew.
I have never had a talent for running, but in my prime I had more than sufficient stamina to see me through three football matches per weekend. These days I fear that I would struggle through a Subbuteo tournament without a substitute flicking finger.
Anyoldwayup, what I’m hoping for is an improvement next week because on the 15th I return to work and, whilst my job is not madly active, I am on my feet all day and I have a couple of miles walk to and from where I park my car, so an evening work-day run could become a whole new ballgame – or ignominious defeat, as it is known in this household…
The first part of the Couch to 5k odyssey is here.
The next instalment of the Couch to 5k diary, ‘Return of the Mummy’ is here.
I believe the correct response here is to offer some empty words of encouragement, so here goes:
“Keep going and I’m sure it’ll get easier”
Did that help at all?
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As empty words of encouragement go, James, they were brilliant. 🙂
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James may well have offered up some encouragement but perhaps he miss-typed- Did he not mean it gets not easier but wheezier? That sounds closer to the mark. I know it does for me, not even those magic pink Nikes can raise my ‘run’ above a lampost to lampost run/rest/shuffle. I wonder if I can part-exchange ’em for something more my style. Like the aptly named Crocs? But don’t let me put you off. Remember, best foot forward…
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And if I don’t have one?…
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One hop at a time?
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And hope they don’t release the school panther?
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Wow. Well, good job, but I would have those lungs checked out as I don’t think an asthmatic shrew would last very long. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one. Oh dear.
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