…Ok so it hasn’t really been two hundred and forty-nine days, but is sure as heck feels like it! Last week our task, per Runner’s World, was to run one minute and walk two minutes, repeat ten times. That was relatively easy. I had some resistance from my body, but it adjusted rather quickly. In my head I was thinking, “Next week I’ll be running during this time. I got this!”
I most definitely DO NOT HAVE THIS!! This week’s trip through Dante’s inferno consisted of two minutes of solid running and one minute of walking…yeah alright buck-o I know what you’re thinking, cause I thought it too. “Two minutes, no big deal! You got this!” Colin would say, “Back away my friend back away slowly.”
Two minutes is a long time, and it’s even longer when your body is screaming obscenities at you the entire time. My body was a little upset that I asked it to run a minute straight, but it graciously allowed my legs, knees and most importantly my lungs to work through the entire ordeal. But tonight my body when on strike and the last part that joined the picket line was my knees, God love them, the first to take up a sign was my lungs.
I can now sympathize with Richard Pryor. He has a comedic bit that he would do about being in the hospital after he had lit himself on fire. The nurse kept telling him that next week he got a bath, in 4 days you get a bath, in 2 days you get a bath, you get to bathe tomorrow. They were about to scrub all the burned skin off…Richard didn’t get it, he was just happy that he was going to get to smell good again, so he got a little annoyed for the bath count down for two weeks. But when he got in the water and the first swipe of that sponge across his body sent him through the roof. He suddenly knew exactly why the nurse did a bath count down and he was D.O.N.E. after the first pass of the sponge.
My legs, knees and lungs were D.O.N.E. after the first minute and five seconds and then they started screaming like Richard did during his bath.
All the people at the park now think I am crazy, as I was verbally encouraging myself to keep it up and telling my lungs to keep working, though they protested hard. I probably will not be a marathon runner and I probably won’t run another marathon if I even make it to this one, but I can say that tonight I ran for 20 min….I might have nearly died directly thereafter, but I did finish the set.
Maybe that is the goal, to just finish, even if you are barely alive and your husband has to practically carry you home. Finish, Then Die.