The Fat Bloke Diaries

 

Episode Thirty – Keep On Keeping On

Running a mile is a bit like watching a Sylvester Stallone movie. If you can switch your brain off and just go with it, then the time flies by and it can be quite fun. There’s a perverse kind of pleasure to be had from knowing that 200,000 years of human evolution has led to this.

Yet in both cases there are terrible downsides – one leads to pain in the legs and a burning in the lungs as you gasp for oxygen, the other has the Italian Stallion’s terrible acting and slurred delivery – but some believe that both can be worth it if you’re prepared to take the punishment.

Now I’ve seen many Stallone movies before (even the appalling ‘Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot’), but I’d never run a mile in my life. My standard comment on the subject has always been, “miles? They’re the reason that God invented wheels”.

But with my 10km run just four short months away I’ve had to become a bit of a slave to my training plan. Not in an exercise addict kind of way, but more like a ‘if I don’t keep up to speed I’ll let everyone down on the day’ burden of potential guilt. It had to come eventually and one day last week the plan said, ‘Today’s challenge: Run a mile’. I’d seen it coming several days before so I logged onto the net and mapped my route. I had it all planned: warm-up walk from home, turn right at the crossroads and start my shuffling (as slowly as possible) from the final house on the right. Over the motorway bridge, past the church and onto the dirt track. Keep going until, heaving and gasping, I should enter the gloom of the subway where the young couples park up at twilight to enjoy who knows what illicit pleasures – I’m so very glad I ran in the daytime – and burst out into the sunlight like an exhausted but triumphant grey-haired mole. A mole that’s just run a mile.

That was my plan and that’s more or less what I did. Once you get past your teenage years, the number of things that you do for the first time lessen dramatically. Cross the forty year threshold and they dwindle away to virtually nil, but this was a genuine first for me. I’d never really had a need to run that far before, but I’d read enough to know that there’s no trick to it, no arcane technique passed down from father to son. You just put one foot in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other… carry on like this and I could fill today’s 800 words really easily while also effectively illustrating the boredom involved in running any distance. I know that it was only a mile but I feel that I’ve opened a small window into the mental tedium of a marathon runner’s world.

And you know what? Nothing went wrong. There were no juvenile muggers, no comedy moments of doggie-do slippage, no being dive-bombed by overprotective lapwings, nothing. I just kept on going and reached my goal (in this case the subway), did what I was hoping to and let out a little ‘Woo’ of delight. Sadly I didn’t have the spare breath for an accompanying ‘hoo’.

I enjoyed it that much that a few days later I ran two kilometres. That’s only a third of a mile longer but sounds so much more. I heard that there was an indoor athletic championship recently where they ran two kilometres in around five minutes thirty. My time was 15:34, but then again I don’t think that they had to negotiate the dog leavings, hypodermics, condoms and the rusty wheelbarrow hurdle on the back straight, all of which can be found at my local track.

I’m absolutely on track with my training. I’ve now swum a little, run a little, cycled a little. Doing them all individually on different days is plenty enough for me, but in a spooky twist of colliding fates, the company that I work for has just made an announcement. They’re holding a mini-triathlon for employees. 400m swim, 10km bike ride and 2.5km run. All of these distances are now achievable for me, if I play a little fast and loose with the definition of ‘run’.

For half a micro-second I considered it, in the same way that I once considered juggling with swords. I know that I
could do it, but there’s just one question that I keep asking myself?

Why on Earth would I?


© 2009 Shaun Finnie
 

 

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