Keep on running

I've never really enjoyed running. I'm not the right shape for it, for starters. Most "real" runners are tall and lithe and don't have any awkward lumps and bumps that need to be strapped down to avoid injury (you know what I'm talking about). I was reasonably good at cross-country at school, largely because I was just desperate to get back indoors and out of the winds from the Urals that whistled across the Norfolk countryside. From the age of 14 (when I started paying to play squash instead of doing cross-country), I stopped running and didn't take it up again until I moved to Amsterdam. And even then, it's not real running; I'm talking treadmills in a gym, where you can run and watch TV at the same time. I still don't enjoy it, in general, but it's the only form of exercise that really makes a difference. I can stop for a few months, take it up again, and notice within weeks that I'm fitter, firmer, more streamlined. Which is really irritating. Swimming is much more pleasant but doesn't have any where near the impact.

However, yesterday at the gym, I had a great run. 35 minutes, up around 9km per hour (not fast, I know, but I've got little legs), Green Day blasting on the new nano. (American Idiot always takes me back to driving Route 1 in California last year, so I was imagining blue skies, the Pacific Ocean, Big Sur.) I didn't get tangled up in my headphone wires, my towel didn't fall off the machine, and I felt great. After 20 minutes, the endorphins kicked in, and I just wanted to keep going. So I did. Woo-hoo! I'm PUMPED!!!!

I think I overdid it a little. By the time I came to cycle home, my legs were aching. After an hour with a cup of tea and my sudoku puzzles, I could barely move. I crashed out after a hot bath, a Thai takeout, and the first episode of Season Three of Battlestar Galactica. Today, to my surprise, I don't feel too bad. I might even make it to yoga later on. And then I will ache tomorrow.