run with the idea
Having been inspired by Easter Sunday’s message of new life, new beginnings etc, the notion of Ian and I running together in the mornings seemed to be a particularly good one. Yes, good ideas are always just that in theory…
I arise with the sun this morning as my alarm clock forces its way into my dream and causes a dishevelled state of bewilderment to my waking. Arriving at Ian’s, feeling perky and preparing myself to head down to the river, I reiterate my lack of physical activity during the last 18 months. We set off through the refreshingly quiet streets of Putney and I congratulate myself on the ease at which I am keeping pace and still managing to breathe. I have run for 2 whole minutes and I am fine!
As we pass a couple of pigeons enjoying the peace and quiet of a spring morning, Ian decides it is more fun to chase them mercilessly in spite of my cries, “Don’t do that, they’re going to poo all over me. Stop!” Halfway to the river my body starts to remind me that it has not broken a sweat in a long time and it is largely unhappy to do so. Despite my begging Ian refuses to relent and I arrive at the river gasping for air through my aching lungs and only marginally conscious.
We have conquered the downhill now we must make our way back up.
I beg and plead with Ian to let me walk and I propose to meet him at the top but it is no use trying to explain the concept of “building up stamina” to someone whose physical philosophy is “my body must learn”.
At breaking point I threaten Ian with the loss of a running partner and at, what I’m sure is, the sight of my beetroot appearance he leaves me in the dust of his tracks as he sprints up the road.
Back outside the apartment, as I force back the two Easter roasts I have consumed over the course of the weekend, I look down at my trousers to find the pigeons have, as predicted, pooped all over my shoe and trousers and I am just too shattered to really care.
Credit to Fox, he is a great motivator. The “good” idea to endure this torture every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday is, however, less appealing than it was when I went to bed last night. But I will persevere and failing a greater endurance, I will simply run with my bus pass.
I arise with the sun this morning as my alarm clock forces its way into my dream and causes a dishevelled state of bewilderment to my waking. Arriving at Ian’s, feeling perky and preparing myself to head down to the river, I reiterate my lack of physical activity during the last 18 months. We set off through the refreshingly quiet streets of Putney and I congratulate myself on the ease at which I am keeping pace and still managing to breathe. I have run for 2 whole minutes and I am fine!
As we pass a couple of pigeons enjoying the peace and quiet of a spring morning, Ian decides it is more fun to chase them mercilessly in spite of my cries, “Don’t do that, they’re going to poo all over me. Stop!” Halfway to the river my body starts to remind me that it has not broken a sweat in a long time and it is largely unhappy to do so. Despite my begging Ian refuses to relent and I arrive at the river gasping for air through my aching lungs and only marginally conscious.
We have conquered the downhill now we must make our way back up.
I beg and plead with Ian to let me walk and I propose to meet him at the top but it is no use trying to explain the concept of “building up stamina” to someone whose physical philosophy is “my body must learn”.
At breaking point I threaten Ian with the loss of a running partner and at, what I’m sure is, the sight of my beetroot appearance he leaves me in the dust of his tracks as he sprints up the road.
Back outside the apartment, as I force back the two Easter roasts I have consumed over the course of the weekend, I look down at my trousers to find the pigeons have, as predicted, pooped all over my shoe and trousers and I am just too shattered to really care.
Credit to Fox, he is a great motivator. The “good” idea to endure this torture every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday is, however, less appealing than it was when I went to bed last night. But I will persevere and failing a greater endurance, I will simply run with my bus pass.
posted by foxy_roxtar at 1:22 PM
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