Today two friends congratulated me on my running (apparently they had only just seen a Facebook status about my first timed 5k run the weekend before last) and I felt like a bit of a fraud. You see, I don’t think this thing that I am doing is actually running. I’m pretty sure I could walk 5 k faster than my attempt to run / stopping to breathe / slow walk to recover / attempt to run / stopping to breathe / slow walk to recover kind of efforts. Even when I have every intention to ‘do it properly’ it all goes a bit wrong.
Like Sunday. Summer happened and there was a good chance it was going to be a one day wonder so I thought I’d give my legs some fresh air as it might be their only chance. Yes, they are practically transparent lumps of lard, but I go out early on a Sunday and never see anyone through the fields and up to the church so I wouldn’t be scaring anyone. I found a pair of shorts hiding right at the back of a drawer and wondered why they were hidden – they’re a decent make intended for exercise. Half way down the road I realised why. I’d worn them once for cycling too, and the same thing had happened…. They clearly felt that they were not designed to be a pair of sensible length shorts. No, they had designs on being hot pants. Actually, they managed to roll so far up my legs that they just looked like pants. And under my long, baggy top you couldn’t even see them. But never mind. Nobody would see me.
Nobody that is except for the man feeding the horses, the man walking his dog, the vicar who had turned up at church almost two hours early and the builder who had decided to make an early start. All of them fancied a chat – or at least an exchange of words – it turned out. And each time I made a very concerted effort to pull down the legs of the shorts so it was clear I’d not just forgotten to finish dressing.
Today I left the shorts languishing back in the drawer and resolved to ‘do it properly’ once again. Only I’ve wanted to see what was in a field off my route for a while now, so I thought I’d have a look. And take a picture for the blog. And generally wonder at the loveliness of Bumpkinsville in the morning.
I then decided to go off my path a little more and ended up with dew soaked grass up to my knees. Then I just got to wonder at the amount of water one pair of running socks and trainers can actually contain. I had my own little paddling pools accompanying me the rest of the way around my route.
So I am a fraud – this isn’t running really. But it is fun. And while it stays fun, I’ll keep on making the most of it. And one day I might actually get around to doing it properly – but until then, don’t waste any time being impressed. :o)
I am impressed! If you run, you’re a runner, no matter your pace!
I think the term ‘running’ may be stretching it,. I think I am more of a loloper…. :o)