This evening I went on my first run in months. Actually, "gentle jog" would be a better description: two laps of Highbury Fields. Very slowly indeed.
Still, it's a start.
From Monday I can expect to have the usual 2 days of muscle hell as my out-of-condition body reacts in shock to the unaccustomed exercise.
Sunday 30 November 2014
Friday 28 November 2014
A rush of blood to the head!
Today my sister Rachel emailed to say she could get me a place in the London Marathon through her charity, Boost - if I wanted one?
I've run the London Marathon twice before: in 1998 and in 2001. That was a long time ago but, believe me you don't forget these things in a hurry. Training day after day, over weeks and months. Building up the distance of the longer weekend runs to increase your endurance. Dragging yourself out into the cold, the wind and the rain as well as into sunshine. It's not normal behaviour.
But sometimes a run can be just superb: near-effortless, under clear blue skies, along canal towpaths or in the Suffolk countryside.
And then race day comes and it's just magical: brimful with excitement and emotion. The crowds of spectators, some there just for the spectacle - or to count runners in Elvis Presley outfits - but others there to cheer on the strugglers and the stragglers. Marathon day lifts you out of your jaded existence. It gives you hope for the human race.
So, after reading Rachel's email, I sat for about half a minute then emailed her back to say: I'm in.
Just like that.
What have I done?
I've run the London Marathon twice before: in 1998 and in 2001. That was a long time ago but, believe me you don't forget these things in a hurry. Training day after day, over weeks and months. Building up the distance of the longer weekend runs to increase your endurance. Dragging yourself out into the cold, the wind and the rain as well as into sunshine. It's not normal behaviour.
But sometimes a run can be just superb: near-effortless, under clear blue skies, along canal towpaths or in the Suffolk countryside.
And then race day comes and it's just magical: brimful with excitement and emotion. The crowds of spectators, some there just for the spectacle - or to count runners in Elvis Presley outfits - but others there to cheer on the strugglers and the stragglers. Marathon day lifts you out of your jaded existence. It gives you hope for the human race.
So, after reading Rachel's email, I sat for about half a minute then emailed her back to say: I'm in.
Just like that.
What have I done?
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