A diary of my first run after over ten years of blissful inactivity …
First run 6/4/11 Aberdeen
100 metres in – Hey, this feels great! I’m flying! I’m Linford Christie, I’m Roger Black, I’m Paula Radcliffe! Why did I ever give this up?
200 metres in – Is that a stitch coming on?
300 metres in – It’s definitely a stitch.
400 metres in – Is this what ‘hitting the wall’ feels like?
500 metres in – Is this what dying feels like? I think my lung just collapsed.
1 mile in – Have I reached the point where I lose bowel control yet?
2 miles in – Wondering how far you have to run before you do poop.
2.5 miles in – Does everyone who runs for a prolonged period of time soil themselves? There is just no way Gebreselassie ever crapped himself. Maybe I’m one of the fortunate few who can control their sphincters during intense exercise.
3.2 miles in – A woman I just passed on the street stared lingeringly and deliberately at my crotch. Note to self: wear longer shorts or conceal some kind of root vegetable inside current pair.
3.6 miles in and I’m home – feeling ethereal, if sweaty.