I went for a jog the other night for the first time since I've been here. The reason I went is because I haven't been able to play soccer for the last couple of months and my belly is getting noticeably larger! I think there's something OK about getting bigger all over as proportionally everything looks OK but being thin everywhere else and just having a 'sticky out' belly looks particularly unattractive. So I decided to do something about it! I decided to go for a run.
The problem for me is that running is a 100% battle of the mind. It was such a mind battle that I thought I'd blog about it to see if anyone shares these same battles! When I'm running I turn into a schizophrenic with 2 voices in my head. Here's how my crazy mind worked a couple of nights ago:
"Right, I've seen pictures of my friends running so it must be easy. Lets get dressed and go." (I'd planned my route to be exactly 1 mile there and 1 mile back)
(now dressed and wearing a new super cool headband). "Looking good. This new headband will surely make me run faster."
(outside the house) "Ooh I feel a bit stiff. Shall I stretch. Nah, stretchings for girls. Lets go." I then turn my ipod on and put on Brad Paisley. I also set my stopwatch just because I'm competitive!
00.30secs "This feels good. I don't know why I don't do this more often. And country music is GREAT to run to!"
00.40secs "This slight hill isn't causing me any problems at all! I'm suprisingly good at this running thing. I should maybe enter some competitions. When is the next St Louis marathon. I'll check when I get home."
1min "It's getting a bit tougher now. I'm sure I'll get over it in a second and get a 'second wave'."
3mins "Flippin'eck. Maybe its just the cold weather causing me to find it tougher to breathe. Yeah, just keep going. Good old Brad Paisley. Concentrate on the music"
5mins "Maybe I have mild asthma. You know I haven't been feeling too well recently."
7mins "I've definately got asthma. Running isnt normally this hard. The weather is really cold too. Shall i walk for a bit. I really think it would be better for me. No don't, that's weak. I'm not a loser. I'm not a loser."
8mins "The route I planned on google maps must be wrong. I've run much further than a mile. At least 2.5 miles. I'm gonna turn around now. (actually I turned around about 500yards short of my mile marker convinced Google was wrong!)
9mins "Thats better. Google was so wrong. Homeward bound now."
10mins "I think I'm going to be sick. I can feel that chocolate dessert coming up. Its really going to be better if I stop. For my own good. No, don't stop you fat loser. OK."
11mins "Oh no, there's 3 teenage girls on the other side of the street. Are they laughing at me? Its my headband isn't it. I knew I looked a bit gay in it. No, its not that. Its my fat belly. They're laughing at how fat I am. Or is it because I'm running so slowly. OK speed up. Thats good. Oh, they're laughing at the phone they've got. Phew."
12mins "Slow down Euan, they've gone. Wow, that really took it out of me. I hate this. And the worst thing is that if I don't do this again, it'll make NO DIFFERENCE to my belly. I may as well just stop now then. I'll stop. No, can't stop, not far to go now."
12mins "I hate running. I'm NEVER doing this again. I hate it. If I want to lose my belly I'm just going to eat salad for the rest of my life. Thats much less painful."
13mins "Oh no, a guy walking his dog and they're coming straight for me. I've got an idea. Just as I run passed, look at my watch and say a number quietly but just so he can hear, and he'll think I've been running for longer. What number shall I say? (out loud)"45". Thats good. He'll think I've been running for 45 minutes. I've restored some of my masculine pride!"
15mins "I think I'm going to die! I haven't written a will yet. What will Sarah do with the kids. What kind of a man dies on the street while running? No, if I'm going to die, wait til I get home."
16mins "Nearly home. How can I get away with never doing this again? Thats it. Injure myself. A good manly injury which means no matter how much I'd want to run, I just can't. A dislocated knee, swollen ankle, cut off my leg. That'll work."
16mins and 54 secs exactly. "Home." Poppy greets me at the door. "Dad, are you OK?" "I'm dying Pops. Get me oxygen, water, something. "Goodnight Dad."
It then took me about an hour to stop sweating and breathing heavily. I'm still stiff too. I wish I'd warmed up!
I can't decide whether to go through this trauma again. Can anyone else relate to this or is it just me? Comments welcome.