Good lord, that was an awfully long 20 minute run.
Not long, as in Whoa! Did I smoke out the miles, but long as in Jesus Christ I’ve only been running for 5 minutes?! And I’ve got 15 more?!
It’s been, mmm, a year? since I’ve run longer than the block or so to catch the train. A year in which I’ve only fitfully lifted weights, biked almost not at all, and took to eating Doritos (Nacho Cheese) for dinner.
Pitiful.
No, I’m not fat, but I’m also not fit. Unfit and unhappy about it. What to do, what to do. . . .
So I finally got off my out-of-shape ass and strapped on the sneaks and ran for 20 minutes.
It ain’t much, I know, but it’s gotta be do-able or I’m not going to, ah, do it. I’ll stick with this for a week or two, building minutes as my body adjusts, then trying that short route I’ve figured (through the bottom part of Prospect Park). I’ll stick with that for awhile—trying to cut time—before moving up to circling the Park.
The route through Prospect Park is nice: I don’t know how long it is, but it’s got hills and a decent shift in scenery, and long enough (esp. with the distance to my apt. added on) to make me not feel like a complete punk.
Like I am now.