Today I am 193.2 pounds of rolling thunder.
Just in case you missed me, no I haven't fallen off the edge of the Earth, I've just been busy. Don't you hate it when life gets in the way of the things you want to do?
So life finally dealt me a hand where for the first time in weeks I've been able to string six or seven days of running together in a row. What a novel concept.
Anyway, Runner's World magazine keeps sending me these "A better ways to breathe" emails, and I'm pretty sure there's no besting the huff-and-puff style I'm now employing. And I'm fairly certain given my total lack of rhythm that I'm ever going to breathe step, step, step and then breathe again.
They might as well stop and send me "Better ways to eat?" Wait, they send those, too, already. Maybe they could just send me cake. Yeah cake, that would definitely be something better to eat, if not something better for me to eat.
So believe it or not, after a winter and spring filled with snow, the temperature finally tipped 90 this week, so all bets are off. It's time to stop making excuses and get out and run. Yes, it's time once again for the world's slowest human to start pounding the mean streets of suburbia once again.
I haven't found my stride yet this year. It's funny to talk about stride, when most of what I do is move my stubby little legs in a choppy style that looks nothing like the elegant runners you see on TV. Heck, it looks nothing like kids on a playground who truly enjoy running.
But perhaps the thing that troubles me the most is how much I stop to walk. I came late to the distance running game, but you'd think after a few years of consistent running that I wouldn't have to walk on the hills. It really bums me out when I give in to the little voice inside my head that tells me my quads are burning or my lungs don't have anything left, and I slow to a brisk walk.
Well, if golf is a good walk spoiled, then running is a chance for a walk to redeem itself. I say there's nothing better than when your conditioning, energy and focus come together and you're running stronger at mile six than at mile one. Hey, it can happen. Probably the day after Runner's World emails me a piece of cake.
So I say it's time, my motivationally challenged friends to get off your duffs and hit the streets. And if you see the world's slowest human in the process, give me a wave.
