A Severe Lack of Running
Regular readers of this blog, all three of you, will remember that I had started jogging in the early part of the year and the plan was to be able to run 5 kilometers non-stop in under 30-minutes before my 37th birthday on April 19, 2018. Sadly, there has been a severe lack of running of late.
My jogging career started positively. The Map My Run app that I use to track my progress, or lack of it in this case, informs me that I managed 4.02 kilometers in 35:15 on January 22nd. This was a combination of two-minute jogs and two-minute walks with the Mrs.
I managed 2.60 kilometers in 19:20 on January 25th, then another 2.18 kilometers in 15:12 on January 27th. It was the 2.89 kilometers in 21:32 on January 30th that fucked things up.
Lack of Running: First Injury
That last run was one where I thought I was going to be able to manage all five kilometers without stopping. I’d found a comfortable pace, the weather wasn’t too cold or windy, and I felt strong, which may sound weird but everything was falling into place. I’d planned my route and set off jogging.
Part of the jog was on a decline and a bend at the same time because it was near a roundabout. As I was jogging down this relatively small hill, two little old ladies were approaching me so I stepped off the pavement and onto the road for a couple of seconds as to not plough through the dithering septuagenarians, leaving a overcoats and blue-rinsed hair all over the place.
My right calf muscle “pinged” the second my right foot hit the road and I knew something was amiss. After trying to job through the pain barrier for approximately one minute, I came to a steepish hill and there was no chance I was getting up it with one fully functioning leg. I walked up the hill and the rest of the way home with a burning sensation on the outside of my right calf muscle.
The next few days were spent in quite serious pain (I even took some painkillers which isn’t like me at all) and me hobbling around like I’d shit myself. Perhaps unsurprisingly at almost 37-years of age and not in the best shape of my life, it took the best part of four weeks for my calf to feel like it had healed enough to resume my plan of the sub-30-minute five-kilometer run.
Lack of Running: Weather Fucks Things Up
Four weeks of sitting on my fat arse feeling sorry for myself took their toll and I have put on around four or five pounds of the 10-13 that I had lost in the early part of the year. I finally found enough motivation to stick my jogging clothes on when the fucking world decided to come to a standstill with the “Beast From The East” dumping several inches of snow on the ground. Snow, ice, more snow and even more bastard ice lasted up until a week ago and now we are left with pissing down of rain. It’s hard to motivate yourself to go for a job in shocking weather when it is nice and warm inside and you have a couple of steak pies in the fridge.
Yet motivate myself I must — said in my best Yoda voice — because I AM going to do a sub-30-minute five-kilometre run before my 37th birthday. This means I have almost a full calendar month to start from scratch and find enough pace and fitness to complete my goal. If you’d like to donate to my JustGiving page, I’m trying to raise some money for the homeless charity Shelter, you can do so here.
Unfortunately, there will be no running this weekend because the Mrs and I are going to Amsterdam for our second anniversary. We may have to run to make it onto the ferry on the way there or to not miss our flight on the way back, but otherwise the weekend will be spent chilling out with a little debauchery thrown in for good measure. I’ll be sure to tell you guys all about it later on.