I went running yesterday afternoon for the first time in way too long. And for the first time ever, I know what it feels like to have a 30-year-old body. Sure, I’ve been 30 for nearly two months now, but I haven’t really done anything that has made me feel that I’m 30.
Wheezing. Aching muscles. Dizziness. Scratchy sensation at the back of my throat. Wobbly stride. Thud, thud with every lame excuse for a stride. Damn, I knew I always had a love-hate relationship with running, but yesterday really proved it and drove that point home.
I ran for somewhere between 6 and 7 minutes and probably didn’t even go a mile (7/10ths of a mile, as measured this morning). Back in the day — freshman or sophomore year of college when I was running track and at the peak of my running prowess — I could run a sub-6-minute mile.
As much as it hurt yesterday, it also felt good. So I woke up this morning at 6:30am and did it all again (after my morning push-ups and crunches). Today I took Happy Dingo and ran the 1.3 miles to Justin’s house to get my minivan, where I left it last night after a few drinks while watching the season finale of Heroes with him. I hit the 1-mile mark in about 9 minutes, and completed the entire 1.3 miles in about 12 minutes. There’s even a hill in the final 1/3rd of a mile.
Not too shabby for a 30-year-old.
I felt much better today after the run than I did yesterday, though my calves are more sore. I stretch and do squats pretty much every day while brushing my teeth, but I don’t stretch the calves, so I’m sure that’s the problem.
Two days in a row. Now I just have to stick to this routine.