Tonight was the big scary week 5 day 3-- walk five minutes, run 20 minutes, walk five minutes. 20 minutes. That's like for-fucking-ever as far as I'm concerned. I can honestly say that I have never run 20 state minutes (or one mile) nonstop in my entire life. Never ever ever. Don't believe me? Here's the first thing I wrote after deciding to do the c25k.
W5D3 is frightening.
After a hellish day at the office, I came home and loaded up my phone with "high energy" music. (Watch 'em if you dare.)
When I got to the gym, they were playing hip hop as usual. Bizarre... I recognized the song. It was Weird Al's Amish Paradise. I listened a little more, and realized it wasn't-- it must've been the source music. There's an original? (OK, I looked it up. It's called Gangsta Paradise. Who knew? Now I'm wondering what an Amish gangsta would be like.)
I stretched, then made my way to the treadmill. By the way, I should note that 24 Hour Fitness sucks less than I originally thought. As it turns out, going to the gym somewhere between 10 p.m. and midnight works pretty well for me. At those hours, it's not the least bit crowded. My guest pass expires on Sunday, and I think I'll do the $300/2 year Costco thing.
So I climbed on the treadmill, and started the warmup. Walk walk walk. Walk some more. Walk. OK, this I could do all day, but that's not on the agenda. Just before the five-minute mark, I reached up and started increasing the speed, and noted my distance. Here we go!
The first two minutes weren't too bad. The third was boring, and I distracted myself by measuring my heart rate. I made it through the fourth and fifth minutes, and wanted to take a nap. Around the sixth minute, I amused myself by calculating exactly where the 1/3 mark was. Seven minutes, OK, past that point. Check your heart rate-- wow, 138, not too bad. Three more minutes to halfway. Run run run.
Ten minutes. I'm pretty sure I've never run more than this in my entire life. And I understand why-- this is boring. 11 minutes. 12. Only eight to go. I just did an eight-minute run two days ago, and I can do another. Pretend the last five minutes were walking. 13, check your heart rate again. 14, hey, how'd you get this far? 15. OK, this sucks. I hate this. But I'm 3/4 of the way there, so there's not a chance in hell I'm quitting. My calves are burning though. Grab a drink of water.
Sixteen minutes. 17. Only three minutes to go, and heeeeey, check that distance. You're just under a mile of running! Go go go. Ding, a mile! (Yes, a 17-minute mile. I said I was slow, didn't I?" Heart rate up to 141, not as bad as I feared. I really want to quit, but now I only have two minutes to go. Count to 72 twice, and you'll be done. I really want to quit, but there's not a chance in hell that I'm giving up now. One more minute. Run run run run... and you're done! 20 straight minutes. HOOOLLLEEEEEE CRAP!
When I started doing this, I said I wanted to run a mile by my 45th birthday. Well, I missed that by one month and one day, but I'm OK with that. I ran more than a fucking mile, nonstop, and I am not dead of teh runningz. I honestly never expected to make it this far.
I finished the cooldown walk, then did some jazz isolation exercises and stretches before heading home.
But, did I mention, I FUCKING RAN A WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING 2
Week 6 day 1 is looking pretty easy right now: run five minutes, walk three, run eight, walk three, run five, walk three. I did that a couple of days ago.
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