Monday, May 12, 2008

It's NOT a marathon.

I convinced my friend Moet (of Sassy Sauce fame) to run the Jack Kerouac 5k with me this September. I am pretty sure that I have likely consumed about 47 jars of sassy sauce, so really I blame her for my oversized hassock and shockingly high cholesterol.

Anyway I have been going to the gym regularly for three weeks now. Which quite possibly means that hell has frozen over, or, I've died and hell is a gym. I figured I would give the Couch-Potato-to-5K regimen a try and run the Kerouac 5K is in September, which means I have a couple of months to figure out how to run 3.1 miles without dying.

Some people out there won't get it, this inability of mine to run with ease. Those people are natural runners. They're the ones who hop on the treadmill next to me and run like gazelles, gliding along on long legs, leaping forward at a rate of speed that would chuck me off the machine immediately.

I clamber onto the treadmill and as soon as I hit "Start" I want to get off. I look ridiculous running. I look pained from minute one and things don't improve much from there. My legs kind of splay out weirdly, one foot swings out and around while the other foot goes off to see what else is going on over on the other machines. I am easily distracted and almost constantly panting.

Which is even more ridiculous considering I am only on week 1 of the plan which means that I am only running for 60 seconds, and then walking for 90 seconds.

Eh well. It's for a good cause. The Kerouac run is a fund raiser run to send a deserving Lowell senior to college and I am all for learning. Even better the race ends at a bar. So not only is it a literary run for a good & intellectual cause, there is beer at the end, a sort of Holy Grail if you will.

I just have to try and not die from running between now and September 28th.

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