My Tryst with Running
The next lamp post. That’s it!
That’s the one where I stop running and start walking.
Oh walking, how I miss you. How I need you right now.
My lungs need you. They’re screaming – inside my chest.
Running is this combination of one foot after the other.
At its core that’s what it is and what appealed to me.
No equipment, no gym membership, nothing much fancy.
Well except a pair of trainers.
And a sweat-wicking jersey.
Also some running shorts.
And if you run in the UK, running tights too.
Want to carry your phone, ah, running bag!
But I digress.
When Covid hit, sitting at home was imprisonment.
And continuous snacking was force-feeding.
One hour of exercise allowed, you say?
I’m going to ‘Carpe Diem’ that hour!
Well mostly to run off the calories I ate in the past 11 hours.
But you don’t just ‘start running’ do you?
You run-walk or fartlek as the professionals call it.
Run for however long you can, then walk.
Ergo, first paragraph about the screaming lungs.
At some point down the line, you realise the need for structure.
Enter Couch-to-5k! Google it.
Over time, you get better. That’s what they say.
Sometimes you feel it, sometimes you don’t.
But you most certainly develop an interest in running.
Some do it do get rid of pent up stress,
Others to think over things.
Some to set records,
And some to get out of the house for an hour.
Me? I do it so I can eat more.
And upload those runs to Strava of course!
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