The Fifteen-Minute Mile...It's A Start

 Last winter really did a number on me. After shoveling my last scoop of snow, I found things have changed...

And not for the better.

The biggest issue was my feet. They hurt like I'd never had them hurt before. I think it was all that shifting weight in big boots shoveling the snow. They call it plantar fasciitis, though I've never been diagnosed. A quick internet search and I have the symptoms. It hurt to walk. I didn't even want to think about jogging, let alone, running.

This summer I've tried to keep somewhat active. On work breaks I hit the treadmill and walk ten or fifteen minutes...not everyday, but enough to keep it going. 

Then came FanX weekend.

A weekend I dreaded, because of my feet.

From Thursday to Sunday (FanX and my Frightmares gig...), I'm on my feet more than I'm off. I wore my best walking shoes and I was surprise that after the first day, my feet didn't feel too bad. I thought, things would be bad--or worse--the next day. The day came and, once again, not as bad as I suspected. The weekend came to an end and I was shocked. Not only did I survive the con and my weekend gig, my feet felt surprisingly good.

I thought I'd try doing a little jogging.

Last week I would walk then jog then walk then jog on the treadmill. Two days ago I jogged for several minutes, longer than I had before. My ankles hurt, I had pains in places I'd never had before, but I kept going. I got close, but yesterday, I hit a mile under 15 minutes.

Back in 2021 I blogged about running a fifteen-minute mile. Things seemed so much easier then, as things do when thinking of past times. My goal going forward is to run that length without as much pain, then try and do a twelve-minute mile and see how that goes.

I'll keep you posted.

Give Thanks...The 15-Minute Mile

 All my life, I ran. I used to run all over as a kid. I ran to school, ran home from school, ran at school. Back then, I was much smaller and much lighter. I didn't have to run everywhere, of course, but I did mostly because I enjoyed it. I loved to run. I wasn't the best runner, but also not far from the worst. 

Funny how things change as you get older.

As the years pass, I've sort of given up on running...almost completely. I never run anywhere, not to school, not from school, not at school. Part of it is because I'm larger and heavier, which makes things much harder on the legs, shins, ankles, etc. 

When we moved, we had some extra space in the garage so we set up a small gym. We had thought about selling our treadmill before the move, but we brought it along. I'm glad we did. Every work day I go out to the garage and do a little physical activity, which includes walking a few minutes each day. As I've gotten used to exercising, I've increased my speed and distance. Just for fun, I jogged for fifteen minutes and when on the #4 setting, that totals a mile. It took me fifteen minutes to job a mile.

My old self would find that completely unacceptable. I used to run 5Ks in almost that time. But, without really running in years, maybe that's not so bad. 

Truth is, I'm grateful that my aging body can cover that distance in that amount of time. I know if I keep going, I could trim that time. I think--at my age--a ten-minute mile is a good goal to try and reach. And if I could keep up that pace for three miles, then that's something.

I found my personality pushes me when it comes to running, almost to a fault. I think I'm going to take it slow, see how my body reacts, then try and do better. Even though my legs burned, I enjoyed it--in some sick way. Yes, it took me fifteen minutes to run a mile...

But, I did run a mile.

Well, #RunChat...Pretty Much Everything

Tonight I was doing a little Twitter browsing (the world's a much better place when I don't...), and I came across a tweet that posed a simple (yet, not...) question.

"What aspect of your running right now needs to the most improvement?"

Oh, #RunChat, if you only knew.

There are so many excuses to not run. The list is almost endless. Time, equipment, an ever-aging and aching body...you name it. Plus, where I live, there's long hill I'd have to climb at the end of my run and that's not something I look forward to. Of course, I could get in my car and got to a park to exercise. But, that requires more work and time.

And during this time of year, I'm sorry but I'm not going outside more than absolutely necessary when it's 100º or warmer--nope.

I could just start by walking. Walking is better than not walking, but the old excuses come into play again. I suppose the biggest excuse and the aspect that needs to the most improvement for me is attitude. Attitude is keeping me from getting off my tail end. Attitude prevents me from getting up early to avoid the heat, it stops me from leaving the house in running gear, it prevents me from running.

Tomorrow begins a new week. We're also in a new month. The days are getting cooler, and other excuses currently in place will change. So, will I begin running again?

Time will tell.

"Chariots Of Fire"...One Of The All-Time Great Movies

While channel surfing the other night I came across the last half of a movie that I've admired from the moment I first saw it. It's one of my all-time favorite movies. It's Chariots of Fire.

The film came out in 1981. I was in high school then and I did a lot of running. But if you think this movie is only about running, you have missed the most important part. It's about principles and standing up for them. It's about fighting for glory.

The film focuses on two main characters, Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams. These men participated in the 1924 British Men's Track Team for the VIII Olympic Games in Paris. Liddell is a devout Christian who runs for God. Abrahams is a Jew trying to find his place in the very established Christian society of England.

Both possess great athletic talent.

Both face decisions that test their resolve.

I only caught the last half hour or so the other night, but to me, that's the best part. The British Olympic team's about to depart for the games across the channel when Liddell is informed that his preliminary race is scheduled for Sunday.

That's a problem.

Liddell won't run on Sunday.

Liddell's race is the 100 meters. That's Abrahams's race, too. Previously, Liddell beat Abrahams, something that never happens. The need to be the best eats Abrahams alive inside. He's got to win. You'd think that since Liddell won't run on Sunday, and therefore disqualifying him for the race, it would be the best news for Abrahams. If you've seen the film (and I'm assuming most of you have...), you know that Abrahams wins; he's the best in the world.

Or is he?

Liddell gets a chance to run the 400 meters. He runs and wins. As he runs a voice-over proclaims his testimony of faith. He runs for God. After he wins Liddell is carried off the track atop this teammates, his spirits flying. The crowd goes wild. A man of principles triumphs.

But what of Abrahams? Though he wins, he knows he's not the best. Had Liddell's preliminary race not been on Sunday, Abrahams probably would have lost. He can never truly claim to be the best. I may be reading  more into this than what's there. Harold Abrahams may have been completely satisfied with his medal and the race. But the message I got from the film told a different story.

The show has that 1980s electro-synth soundtrack, which is a little corny. But overall the film holds up well. It tells a story of men fighting for glory, the glory of men and the glory of God. Chariots of Fire, it's just a great film!

The Morning Run

He wakes at 5 am; the road awaits

His aging body protests, but loses the battle to the mind,

The mind bent on running

The runner rises early, an entire day must be performed after the morning run. Back before his body refused to quickly repair itself after 45 minutes of constant motion, the man could run all day. He always thought running was fun, and even now as his middle-aged legs consisting of toes, feet, ankles, shins, knees, bones and muscles silently screamed their opposition in the early hour of the morning, the man's mind told him running was still fun.

He sees his shoes, the pair of New Balance surround his calloused feet

As he pulls them on, the shoes the last of his equipment he puts on,

The road calls

Before the man opens the door to the 35º fahrenheit environment outside, he stretches in an attempt to convince those bones and muscles of their obligation as working appendages, sworn by genetics to obey the all-powerful brain, an organ never called upon to transport the rest of the body anywhere. The man looks out the living room window; it's dark outside; a storm approaches.

The first steps hide the man's desire to sprint, to cover vast distances

And deny the laws of nature their rightful, eternal due

The cold air fills his lungs

The man rounds the corner of the street on which he lives. He looks skyward, eastward and knows it will be hours before the sun eclipses the mountain tops. It's Monday morning and few cars are on the road at this hour, something he has noticed on Monday mornings. The next intersection comes into view, then is crossed by the man, his breath in sync with his pumping legs. Again the man looks up. No rain yet.

Randomness fills the runner's mind, a thought for the coming day

Escapes from the others, he remembers something he forgot the week before,

The day will suck

With 15 minutes in, the runner's body relents, his legs floating over the pavement. The runner rounds a corner; the road's grade increases and the body responds to compensate. He crests the small hill and sees a long tree-lined road descending before him. A sidewalk runs parallel to the road on the runner's left, but the runner chooses not to use it--the tree's roots lifting sections of the cement causing an unsafe environment for running. The man runs at an approaching set of headlights and wonders if the driver will pass him safely by, or if this will be the morning when a car ends his life.