I’m not going to lie. This is hard. It’s harder than I thought it would be.
Getting the gumption up to go running isn’t the hard part. It’s actually moving that sucks so bad. The day of my last post, (Nov. 14) I went for my first run in years. I knew it was going to be rough. I mean, I’m carrying around WAY more of me than I was the last time I decided to go at a faster-than-walk pace that didn’t include the 20 yard toddler dash. So, I fired up my running app: ZOMBIES, RUN!
This dude, would have KILLED for an app like this.
I knew I was going to need some incentive to get moving, hence me choosing the zombies. And holy crap, it got me moving! I wanted the ‘full-immersion’ experience so I turned on the ‘random zombie encounter’ feature. Several times during the run, a voice comes through the headphones giving you the story, or telling you you’ve collected some items…or, that zombies are following you. The next quarter mile went something like this:
“Zombie horde at 100 yds.”
Oh, that’s not good. I guess I better pick up the pace.
“Zombie horde at 73 yds.”
Wait, how fast can they be? They’re zombies!
“Zombie horde closing in at 52 yds.”
“Zombie horde at 34 yards.”
OH GOD! I’M GOING AS FAST AS MY FAT BUTT WILL LET ME GO!
Oh thank sweet Jesus, I can walk now. *wheeeeeeeze*
I’ll admit, I walked a good portion of the run. I didn’t want to overdo it on the first day and risk injury. That having been said, when the voice tells you zombies are coming and you hear their groans in your headphones and they sound like they are right behind you, you can’t help but go faster. I pushed myself harder than I would have otherwise and got a helluva workout for it.
I was worried because the next day I could barely walk. My calves, shins, hip flexors all cried out with every step. I was afraid I broke myself. I took some ibuprofen and took the next run long and slow. I went further, but walked briskly the entire way. My family came out and joined me in the last kilometer as I cooled down. The day after wasn’t so bad. “Maybe I can do this.”, I thought.
So, fast forward to today:
Now, I’m not the young punk I used to be. And that’s okay. I used to be a long distance runner. It was a time of my life I look back on with so many great memories, because it was one of the few things I was better at than everyone else. When I put my shoes on and got ready for a run, I felt like a god. My feet were light as air and no matter how bad it hurt, no matter how much my lungs burned and my muscles screamed, I pushed on. I’ve basked in the warmth of those memories for too long. I rested on my laurels until I got fat, lazy, and couldn’t run if someone paid me to.
Today, that changed. Today, I pushed myself harder than I have before. I got beyond the aches and pains. AND I TORE ASS! Near the end of my run, my muscles were warm, my feet hurt, my lungs burned and I hit a patch of grass and that teenager inside poked me and said, “Go.”
It wasn’t far, but I was in a dead sprint and I felt like a god again. For that blissful moment, I was weightless. My feet flitted across the ground and the grass rocketed by under me. Today, I touched greatness again.
So, this week, I’ve covered 12.72 km (That’s 7.9 miles.) I’m using km because I’m training for a 5k, so I want to get a good feel for the distance.
And the best part?
Both of my sons are demanding to go for walks now. “We need to get some exercise, daddy!” Being a positive role model, might just work out after all!