The talking is over and the dust has settled. There’s no turning back now, 4 of the finest finely tuned athletes this side of Olympus prepare to do battle…
well, not quite!
Yep, we’ve done it, we have finally signed up for the Cancer Research UK 10K run at Althorp House on September 20th 2009. I’m not quite sure who’s idea it was, but there was enough bravado flying around the office to convince us we were in tip top shape, the finest human specimens walking the land.
In ones own mind, it’s easy to imagine very little training. Just turn up on the day with a monocle and walking cane, breeze the 10 kilometres without breaking sweat, then home in time for tea and medals. Delusional is not a word I throw around willy nilly, but in this case it seems to be the only fitting word to describe us out of breath sweat monsters.
Having signed up for the run with a spring our steps, the days in the calendar started ticking down like the clock on a detonator. ‘I’ll start training tomorrow’ was the cry, which eventually became ‘I’ll start next week’, and before we knew it we were 2 months away from D-Day. Having personally been an athletic type during my youth and still a keen sportsmen (albeit with a lot more shouting than running these days), I started using the running machine at the gym rather than weights.
My ideas of a quick physical turn around have been dispelled by the fact I can only run 2K without falling off the machine in a wheezing mess, arms flailing with cries of ‘WATER, WATER!’ ringing around the gym. Things wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t surrounded by people twice my age who simply frown at me like some crazed loon, or maybe they’re just thinking – go home Sonny.
I have managed to perceiver with my 2K limit, which is now becoming more manageable into my second week. Yes I get a stitch after 8 minutes, but it’s not enough to halt my slow but steady progress into a more measured level of desperation. In fact, I started to become slightly overconfident and decided to ‘run’ home from work 3 days ago. Though whether getting 5 minutes round the corner and out of sight then walking the rest of the way can be classified as a run, I shall leave to your discretion.
You see, my brain is a curious organ. Where as a lot of people can control there mind and push through certain pain thresholds, I don’t appear to have any stomach for the fight (if you’ll pardon the pun). I’ll start running full of beans, like a little lamb frolicking in the folly, then my mind takes over -
‘What exactly do you think you’re doing?! Stop. Stop right now I say. This is impractical, unenjoyable, and incomprehesible’
and when I hear my masters voice I must obey. Some people think with their head or their heart, I don’t have that luxury. I am but a lapdog who does as he’s told, and let me tell you this, my mind is the boss, and he’s one lazy git! One thing my mind is not in control of though, and that is this lower back ache which is currently making me squirm in my seat like a stepped on worm. I think the lack of prolonged exercise has stirred up some kind of inner body demon that is poking away at my lower spine with a blunt instrument. It’s not a major pain, but you know it’s there, and it knows exactly where you are…
So there you have it, week one of the training regime and so far I can do 2K on a runner, 2cm on the road, and have an athletics career threatening back injury. I’m now also wondering whether I can hire a truck to drive round the course with me on the back on a running machine. Yes it will be expensive, but I’m pretty sure nobody else has tried that as a fancy dress costume….
idiot on a running machine, it’s the new 118 outfit.
So that’s phase one of our rigorous training regime, I will keep you updated on a weekly basis of how we our getting on in our quest for fitness. We are trying to raise £1000 for Cancer Research, so if you would like to make a donation simply click on the link below.