Wednesday, July 16, 2014

I ran.

There's an I ran/Iran joke to make here, but it's probably tacky so I'll skip it. But I did think about it, so the tackiness is already out there in the world. Whatever.

Yes, I ran. Well, "ran." Let's review about my activities for the last 7 months.

December: taper off running after my marathon in early December. Eventually quit completely late in the month.

January: walking and some other cardio workouts.

February-July: strictly walking/hiking. Sometimes I'd up the pace if I was feeling energetic, but mostly it was a leisurely 45ish minutes on the treadmill or half hour with Kiwi.

July 14, a day that will go down in infamy (also, Bastille Day, hooray France!), I interspersed tiny running intervals in my walking. It went down like this: I wanted to do an hour (Nick's out of town and I need to kill time somehow), so I figured 4ish miles was a good goal. Because I'll die of boredom if I just meander on the treadmill at an even speed for 60 minutes, I split it up into 0.4 mile segments. Each "interval" was 0.3 walking/0.1 walking faster. Since I had 10 of them to cover the 4 miles total, I decided to up each "fast" interval by an extra 0.1 mph each time, so my speeds were 4.0/4.1 then 4.0/4.2, 4.0/4.3 etc. At about 4.4, I realized I couldn't keep this up by walking. I needed to run. Cue the danger music.

It's a sloth, it's cute. That's all I know.

So I started running. Granted, it was for about 80 seconds at a time, and my max speed was 5 mph (a whopping 12 minute mile) but STILL. It was a little something. I didn't struggle too much through the intervals, but it was definitely a challenge. 

I don't plan on jumping back into running in any meaningful way for a while, but it's nice to know I have the ability. My legs are still actually capable of moving quickly. Now if only I could walk up the stairs at work without being unbelievably winded.

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