Meanwhile, I've been making noises for a while about cancelling my gym membership (BORING) and taking up running again, in the full knowledge that this will be a process full of misery and despair.
See, I used to be a runner. I was never a very competitive runner, because I don't have the build for speed, but I loved trail running, and I was adequate at middle distances. (If I were a football player, I would probably make a pretty good halfback, let's put it that way. Good Eastern European stock: "When ox die, harness wife to plow.")
I suck at jogging, mind you. I'm not good enough at pacing myself to jog. I like to run.
I had a lot of joint problems in high school and college, and while I could still manage endurance sports like racewalking and hiking (at least until the bout with mono), my knees and hips wouldn't take the impact of running. (It turned out not to be lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, or half a dozen other things, and eventually I walked out with a diagnosis of juvenile onset osteoarthritis, a naproxen prescription, and a cane. These days, they'd probably call it fibromyalgia. However, since it went into spontaneous remission in my twenties after a heavy course of antibiotics for a lung infection, I now harbor suspicions that what I had was chronic Lyme disease. Anyway, that's all backstory.)
Well, EMS is in the throes of their winter clearance, and what with one thing and another, while the ashacat was trying on climbing shoes, I walked out with the pair of North Face trail runners that were marked down almost into my price range, and two pairs of Smartwool running socks. (I also got two pairs of hiking socks, because dammit, there will be hiking this summer.)
These are very silly shoes. The innovative lacing system is, well, a winch. And a bunch of very fine cables run through the body of the shoe, all of which tighten when you twist the little wheel on the heel. Silly, yes.
But wow, do they fit. And I think the socks weigh more.
So this morning, I did something I haven't done in twenty years. I got up, put on my workout pants and the sort of scary-ass sports bra a DD-girl needs for running in, put on my socks and shoes, grabbed a t-shirt, put my hair in a ponytail, and went for a two-mile run in the rain.
It wasn't an unbroken two mile run, mind you--I've been hitting the treadmill and the ski machine at the gym, but that's not a thing like actually getting out and running over slate sidewalks in the early morning mist. But I managed six intervals (I didn't time--I just ran until my chest and arches hurt too much, and then I stopped and walked until I could run again. Got to the halfway point, stopped for five minutes of stretching and begging to die, and turned around and came back.
Two miles in twenty-five minutes, not counting the five minutes of stretching. Not a great time, by any means, but a beginning. And I have a 5.2-mile route mapped out for Eventually. (It's my walking route when I am going for a walk to go for a walk, not as an adjunct to errands downtown, so I know it well.)
So I ran this morning in the rain, through the old part of town with the ancient trees and the slate sidewalks. And I'm already looking out the window at the rain, wishing I were back out there.
Tomorrow, I may see if I can do it again.
240.7 miles to Lothlorien
And now I need to go take a shower, start some laundry, and get to work on this book I'm supposedly writing.
I think she was a middle distance runner.
The translation wasn't clear.