I have been running for most of my adult life. I started the first time I went to university more than twenty years ago. I have been doing it on and off ever since then.
Now that I’m over the age of forty, I’m finding that what I eat tends to “stick” to me, shall we say, more so than in the past. In order to deal more effectively with the tire around my waist than looking at it accusingly in the mirror, I decided to start running again this past February. We have a treadmill in our basement so I had no excuse to avoid doing it.I have been more or less successful in running four days a week.I started out running not much faster than a brisk walking pace.
Yesterday, I ran 6.4 km (4 miles) in 45 minutes. It is a personal best. My legs are painful jelly today. I actually surprised myself. The temperature was perfect last night at around ten degrees Celsius (50 degrees Fahrenheit) with only a little wind. Of course, I wasn’t able to run today; my legs are just destroyed but I hope to go again tomorrow.
My informal goal is to be able to run at 10 km/h or a 6:00 pace (time to run 1 km). That would be 6.2 miles/h or a 9:39 pace (time to run one mile). Last night, I ran 8.58 km/h or 6:59 pace. Imperially, that would be 5.33 miles/h or a 11:15 pace. That is shockingly close to my “back of the envelope” goal.
The way I run is a lot like the way I live my life. I try to ignore the current unpleasantness of my situation and continue to strive for my eventual goal. I keep pushing so that I keep making progress, understanding that progress is often slow and painful.I’m not sure if this is the best philosophy for living one’s life but it’s gotten me through a number of thoroughly unpleasant phases in my life.