In a moment of weakness I agreed to go for a run with one of the offspring while everyone was staying with us over Christmas.
I’ve never seen the appeal of jogging. My parents used to do it back in the 80s. It seemed a strange thing to do to yourself even then, especially when the man most famous for popularising it died while out running at the age of 52 (RIP Jim Fixx). Perversely , the dream used to be to die with your running shoes on, like a cowboy dying in the saddle. My dad did in fact drop dead at a tragically early age whilst out jogging, although quite rightly we blamed his heart attack on years of smoking and his love of food and sugary drinks in a time before statins, rather than anything inherent in that type of exercise (RIP Alastair, 61, objectively the best dad ever). I used to ask him why he ran, and he described the appeal as like hitting your head against a brick wall and then stopping. This may explain why he never went into motivational speaking, or sales for that matter. Certainly people out running never look like they’re having much fun. I always found moving to music easier, and then there is always the dogs that need walking as a push to exertion. Team sports are also a motivational factor, as I found with my departmental netball team, the downside being that if you’re rubbish at it then you’re letting everyone else down. Plus, you need friends to be in a team.
So, agreeing to go for a run really came out of the blue. I hadn’t realised I was “running curious” but I suppose I considered it a bonding exercise. Our first run was only fifteen minutes, and wasn’t great fun but not too arduous because we spent most of the time talking.
We went again the next day, and that was the nadir as far as I’m concerned. We continued with the chat which made it bearable but every now and again I would notice I was running and think “this really is awful”.
However, I stuck with it. I missed last Tuesday because I had to go to work, but every other day I’ve been out with various family members. Simon told me a few days ago that you have to do it for over 20 minutes to “make it worthwhile” vis a vis the health benefits and I’ve only cracked that a couple of times but I’m not doing too badly for a complete beginner.
This morning was my first run alone, since everyone else has gone back into town. My ankle has been a bit sore so I’m wary. With no one to talk to, I tried listening to music this morning. I’m not sure what’s wrong with my ears, but my EarPods keep falling out. I suppose potentially it’s another distraction to take my mind off exercising but it can’t be good for them falling onto the gravel all the time (have I just voided my warranty?) I picked the first likely looking running playlist which started off OK but it was all downhill after Take On Me by A-ha. Honestly, did anyone really like Madonna’s music, or was it just a cult of personality?
I posted this on Strava, as you can see I’m too much of a neophyte to know how bad my stats are, long may it last. I had only intended to run for twenty minutes, but I’d had enough after the fifth song, which I calculated should be around 15 minutes. Aren’t songs three minutes long? Anyway, I accidentally ran for over 26 minutes.
Coincidentally, I was listening to a podcast on Stoicism last week. Real stoics would tell you that you should be doing something unpleasant every day just for the sake of it. I wonder if the health benefits would actually detract from its stoic value? It’s hard to imagine Marcus Aurelius out jogging, but then I’m not a classical scholar, to be fair.
As I say, I was contemplating giving the whole thing away as recently as yesterday. It’s much easier to be motivated in company, and it doesn’t even count as a New Year’s resolution since I started too early, although someone did try to tell me this week that preemptive resolutions are even better. However, I must confess that I dreamed about running shoes last night, so maybe this habit has got legs after all. I know my dad would be proud.
Now, a quick shower and then off to the shoe shop.
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ps “Jog on” used to be a more polite synonym for “F**k off”