tell me mick, how exactly did you get time on your side?
9:09AM, Mon. Oct. 8, 2007
i woke up this morning at 6am, a very unusual, even unknown, hour for me. i layed there and layed there, until i finally realized sleep was not coming back. my horoscope says today is one of those 'first day of the rest of your life' kind of days, so continuing in the vein of the unusual, i decided to go jogging.
i had a few sips of coffee, packed the dog in the car and drove to town lake. i checked the clock when we arrived: 8am on the digital dot (okay, i had a few cups, not sips, before hitting the trail). our very helpful guidebook from run-tex university suggested a 30 minute "easy run" for today's workout. though i was less convinced about the 45 minute run it suggests for later in the week, 30 minutes seemed easy enough, in a challenging sort of way.
since i don't own a watch, i set a goal to jog from the run-tex coolers to the bridge just before zilker park. this is my idea of long-distance running -- you can't even see the end-point from the start!
it was wonderful, this first run of the rest of my running life. there were swans honking and flapping in the lake; when i got hot, it started raining; i got to feel like a good dog-parent for once, as my pup dragged me down the trail; i was actually jogging faster than some others on the trail (because they were walking); i could tell how red-in-the-face i was by the many 'first time, eh?' looks from runners on the trail, but i didn't care; it stopped raining before i stopped jogging, so i felt as though i'd been jogging so long, i'd passed through several cycles of the universe.
at long last, i reached the bridge. it took a lot of self-coaching to run, not slumpingly pant-walk the last few steps, but i forced myself to keep a running pace until my foot *touched* the concrete floor of the bridge. and i turned around and walked the same path back to the car, feeling very proud of my strange but good activity.
i did a few stretches, enjoyed some water, strutted around a bit: "that's right, look at me. i ran, i ran far. see the sweat? i'm cool like the other cool running people." and i got back in the car to check the clock. forty minutes had passed. since the walk back had to have taken close to twice as long as the jog to the bridge, what this rotten little clock was telling me was that my private morning marathon had lasted, in reality, about 15 minutes at most. i know "reality," and even "time," are subjective from time-space continuum-type points of view, but still...FIFTEEN MINUTES?!
now, i refuse to be disappointed in myself, because that's when exercising becomes decidedly un-fun. at least i followed my own blog's advice, by just doing *something*. but with the clock, i am very upset...a naysayer such as him is no friend of mine. i'll stick to the swans and the weather and funny looks from strangers as the guides to my goals, thank you very much.