Somehow I let a friend convince me that running 1000 km in a year was doable. To be fair, she’s aiming for 1000 mi, but I have some small bit of sense about what my limits are. Plus, I measure my distance in km, anyway.
With about 52 weeks a year, that means about 20 km a week. And how am I doing so far, you might ask? Well as of 18 January, I had run a grand total of 0 km. But then there’s that moment where you say, ah feck it. Just do it. Or don’t do it. But then just shut up about it.
So suitably chastened, I gulped down my coffee, and got dressed. Since I have an iPhone, which only lets you upload music with iTunes, I used one of Spotify’s running playlists. I say “one of”, but as far as I can tell, they are all the same? Lots of Avicii, Not Avicii, David Guetta, and David Guetta remixing everyone else. But it all had a beat, so it worked well enough.
Shoes on, laces up, hoodie, legwarmers (which will fall down anyway, but that’s ok because I overheat when I exercise), and a huge deep breath before opening the door to the COLD.
My running app might be a bit inaccurate, as it logged me at a painful, and painfully slow, 5 km, when I’m fairly certain that route is only 4 km. But, as it’s the tracker, 5 km is what got recorded.
So. 5 km down. 995 km to go.
I’ll say this – it was hard, like it’s always hard when you do a thing you used to be somewhat decent at, but haven’t done in a while, and now you are not that great at it. But once you get over that and just get on with it, there’s a certain amount of peace you make with the discomfort and the pain and the oh-god-how-am-i-only-2-km-in??? Because you know, it’s just going to be like this the first few times, and it doesn’t matter how much you put it off. It’s just going to be like this. So either you just do it, or you just forget about the whole thing. But the worst is to just talk about how one day you’re just going to do this thing. Any day now. Seriously.
First run down. First run’s the hardest. 5 km at a time, slowly chipping away.