We've been walking to get ready for the Sea Wheeze Half-Marathon for weeks (five, but who's counting?). We have officially registered to--let's say--"race." And now, we are actually running. For realz.
Starting today, Mr. Goodlaff and I are easing into the running thing. This week's agenda: walk three minutes, run thirty seconds for a total of sixty minutes on every day but Thursday and Sunday. It's entirely do-able.
At first, the running is easy. "Thirty seconds? No big deal. I am a gazelle on the wide open Serengeti! I can keep running for way longer," you think to yourself. But after about 40 minutes, you're feeling more like the weak, lame gazelle about to be a lion's dinner, and thinking: "Holy $#%&!!!! Is this over yet?"
That said, it wasn't been completely awful. I won't claim to have enjoyed the actual act of running, but I did have a small sense of satisfaction at not having rolled an ankle or collapsing in a wheezing heap on the sidewalk today (it's early, yet). And I am beyond glad that we did the walking to condition ourselves; let me tell you--if we started off running, I would have stopped after today.
We rewarded ourselves for a good day's run with a dinner salad, and felt very righteous. All in all, a good start on the long road ahead...