If you've been following this blog, you know that I run, or rather jog. The reasons I do so are legion but I'll spare you the list. When my transplant doctor gave me the go-ahead to start running again, I could barely make it to the end of my street, a little more than a half mile. Slowly I built up the distance and now I usually run 2 miles, sometimes 3 or 4. For the past two months, I've been running just about every day.
What I noticed though is that I'm pretty pokey. I wasn't fast to begin with, but I seem to have perfected a pace that just borders on "running"; any slower and I'd be walking. The reason for this (aside from adult-onset running, and taking my cue from the tortoise as opposed to the hare) is that I run alone, set no goals and think about everything except running. I own a fancy watch I can never remember how to use because I so rarely wear it. With all three of my kids currently training for the upcoming cross-country season, I decided it was time to get the lead out. The fact that I seem to have mysteriously gained 8-10 lbs. is a related issue, which I will save for another post.
Sadly, I discovered that my watch had died, possibly of neglect. I borrowed one of my kids' watches and set off to run a route I'd timed myself doing in the past. The results were truly embarrassing. I was averaging 11-12 minutes per mile. I've managed to get that down some but I have a way to go before I get close to my PR of 27:47 for a 5 k, an average of about 9 minutes per mile. Yesterday I ran 2 miles at what felt like race speed and managed a 20:38. Today I ran a little further at a somewhat slower pace: 3 miles in 32:49. A 5k is 3.2 miles, so I've got some catching up to do.
My goal is to run the CVS Downtown Providence 5k on Sept. 21 in under 30 minutes. It's good to set goals. My true goal, however, is to just run the damn thing since I was unable to in 2007, being tethered to an IV pole and all.
Tomorrow I take a break from running, my excuse being my monthly clinic appointment. Remember Little Man? He's on my chest today calling me Chubsy Ubsy and whispering other nasty things I'll not repeat.
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2 comments:
In my salad days, I used to run 8 miles a day, 6 days a week and I'd be embarassed to tell you how slow my pace was. The most important thing is that you're doing it. Don't sweat it. I truly believe you'll do that 5K in record time, because you're determined to. My hat's off to you. :)
I wish I was Bartholomew (spelling?) Cubbins and then I'd have 500 hats to remove!!!
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