My maiden voyage

This is it. The post you've all been waiting for.... where the talking stops and the "running" starts. The Breasts strapped down? Check. Outdated, not cool clothes on? Check. Children looked after? Check. Toque and gloves? Check.

Toque and gloves? Yep. It's freakin' snowing out. It's not like the blizzard, but it is definitely snowing - a lot. I finally decide to get this adventure underway, and the weather is not even on my side. It is coming down thick and fast, it's windy, it's freezing. Okay, it's actually only about -2, but I am sure that the speed at which I will be "running" will result in a wind chill adjusted temperature of at least -3. It is beautiful though, the flakes are fat and jolly, and the white coating over the grime of the old snow seems suitable for the fresh start I am about to make.

Before I tell the story of my first "run", I have to clarify something. I started running on March 15. I started blogging on March 30. That means I have two weeks of catch-up to do, and am writing things that happened in the past as though are the present. Hope that's cool with you. Eventually my entries will be in sync with their posting dates. So if the discrepency bothers you - stop reading for a week or so. I just didn't want anyone to think it was snowing here today - or worse, to check the local weather and think I was delusional.

After donning all my gear, and kissing the kids goodbye, I stepped out into the (not really a) blizzard. I walked to the end of my driveway (uphill), and did a few stretches. I had borrowed Pam's watch, and it was kind of dainty and kind of not really hers, so I had a bit of stress about how I was going to keep track of time in this weather, but I figured if that the worst problem I had on my maiden voyage, I would be doing well.

And then - I set off. My plan was a brisk five minute warm up walk. You know the one - you've seen it. It's always a woman performing this act. Legs pumping, arms swinging. That look on the face that says "Out of my way, I'm EXERCISING, can't you tell?". To be honest, I've always thought it looked a bit odd - in fact, I have said to myself that I would be embarassed to be seen walking like that. But, let me tell you - when your arms are swinging like that, and you are moving as swiftly as your shadow - you feel - well, odd. And kind of embarassed. However, I know that I am out for a "run", so I have nothing to be embarassed about. I do think though, that next time I might carry a sign that says "This is just a warm up. Drive by me in five minutes if you want to see how good an athlete I really am."

I walked uphill, then downhill. After five minutes, the plan was to run for one minute, walk for two minutes, and repeat this sequence six times. When my watch said that five minutes had passed, I broke into a "run". This was it! This was the moment I had been planning for! And it felt - it felt - well, it didn't feel like much of anything. It was downhill, so it was easy. It was one minute long, so it was short. Short and easy, that's how it felt. I can do this! What was I worried about?! I walked for the planned two minutes, which was mostly flat and when my watch said that two minutes had passed, I broke into a "run" again, filled with confidence. My legs were feeling the burn a bit, but the minute passed fairly easily.

The next two minute walk marked the end of the flat road. I started uphill. At that inconvenient moment, my (oops, a little wet) watch said the two minutes had passed. I broke into a "run". Oh. Oh, dear. I don't know if it was the hill, or the stress of the two minutes of running I had accumulated thus far, but my legs did not like this minute. It was hard. I wanted to stop. I needed more air. I needed..... oh, thank god, the minute was up. The best thing about that minute was that it was over.

I repeated this three more times. I never stopped, although I thought about it. Though the wind whipped my face, the snow covered my tracks as soon as I made them, and my legs screamed in protest, I finished out my planned "run". I returned home, feeling full of self-righteous good health, and yes, just a little bit of pride that I had completed my maiden voyage. After all, I had just run for a whopping six minutes.