The complete and utter silence on this blog is mainly to be attributed to my changed status (student to unemployed to part of the daily rat race) and the consequent lack of time and/or energy to keep up with the writing. Lately, however, I felt I had become used to my new life as employee and that my biorhythm had changed accordingly. I felt I could finally start doing something besides work, find a kind of project to take on, something I can do every day and improve myself at, either intellectually or physically. Reading books and listening to music is all nice and dandy, but it does not leave you with the feeling you’ve actually accomplished something. It was this feeling of accomplishment I was after when, on a whim, I decided to start running.
Before I go on I must tell you that I am by no means athletic. I didn’t much like sports at school, and I was never really good at it. I tried running two or three times before, I tried bicycling, but every time I gave up rather quickly. This time, my purpose differs from my previous efforts, so I think (hope) that I can keep it up, even make it into daily routine. This time around, I don’t necessarily want to loose weight or “do some sports”, I merely want a feeling of accomplishment, I want to stimulate myself not only intellectually, but also physically, I want to take those weak legs of mine and, step by step, day by day, mould them into a much finer specimen. I must admit I have been inspired by Haruki Murakami’s book on running, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, which I started reading simultaneously with my decision to start running. I didn’t much like the book, but I was motivated by his insistence on focusing on “the big picture” and his ability to talk himself into keeping it up every day and shape and control his body the way he wanted to. I must also tell you that I haven’t read up on the subject or consulted training manuals or anything, so my method may not be very efficient or effective. “In order to run you just have to run”, I thought. “No excuses, just put on a pair of running shoes and hit the road, that’s all you need to do.” So that was what I did.
How horrible it has been! Before I set out on Monday, I had pictured the course I would follow and see how far I could get. As expected, that wasn’t very far and I was back again in fifteen minutes. During those slowest fifteen minutes of my life, I had to repeat again and again to myself to look at the big picture, to endure the pain in order to gain. “What’s fifteen minutes of pain in a whole day?” I kept asking myself. But the truth is, it’s not just “fifteen minutes of pain”, it’s much more than that. Sure, the running itself adds up to a measly fifteen minutes a day, but it takes me at least half an hour each time to recuperate afterwards. I get home heaving and panting, breathing like a madman, and, after some half-hearted stretch exercises, have to throw myself in the nearest couch in order not to faint. But the worse is the pain in my lower abdomen, which goes on long after my breathing has normalised and after my face has stopped looking like an overripe tomato. It’s the weirdest thing, as if all my intestines are so badly shaken that they continue to cramp up for minutes on end. It’s excruciating, really, and every time I feel as if I’m going to die so I always think “never again”. Still, for now, I’ve managed to keep up my rigorous (sarcasm) training schedule as a result of which the muscles in my legs are as stiff as a post and I now have the gait of a woman of eighty. On top of that, I had an outburst of migraine this morning. I get migraines at least once every month (hormone thing) but also when I’m stressed, when I’ve had something to drink and when I’m tired. Now, it’s not that time of the month for me, I’m not stressed and I didn’t drink so the only possible reason for this morning’s outburst can be fatigue. Apparently, three fifteen-minute jogging sessions were enough to set off alarm bells and trigger protest actions from all over my body.
Embarrassing indeed. At least it’s already after sunset when I hit the road in my fluorescent jacket, so I usually don’t run into anyone I know (or don’t get recognised). And, who knows, by the time it’s still light at 8:30pm, my body has adapted in such a way that I have no reason to be embarrassed anymore…
misschien lopen voor het avondeten ipv vlak erna? Want als je net gegeten hebt kan je daar idd serieuse krampen van krijgen!
Respect! Ik herken me nogal goed in wat je neerpent maar de drempel ligt momenteel hoog. Jij bent al over de drempel. Keep it up.