Okay, so here's the story... I think I may have just committed myself, nope, scratch that... I have committed myself to running a half marathon on the 3rd of April next year.
Shock! Horror! Yip, I'm having a little trouble believing it myself. If it weren't for the aches and pains (in muscles I didn't even know I had) caused by my first training session a.k.a road run yesterday afternoon, I'd think that it had all been a really bad dream.
Alas! This is no elaborate dream sequence, this is real life with real hills and real roads and a very real drill sergeant-type running buddy. I have to give it to her, she has some mad skills and super-powers of persuasion...
There we were on Monday rowing away merrily after having done 50 minutes of cardio on a variety of butt bustin' torture racks, just chatting away about the weekend etc. when outta the blue I asked her if she'd like to incorporate a road run into our weekly fitness regime. [insert confession here] It was me, yes me, who started the slide down the slippery slope.
The drill sergeant smiled excitedly; "Thought you didn't like road running?," she asked. "You've always been more of an iPod, water bottle, air conditioned treadmill kinda girl." To which I responded, "I know, but maybe it's time to up the ante, maybe even work towards a goal like a 10km fun run or maybe even a half marathon," I continued to dig myself deeper and deeper into my self-made hole...
"My sister ran the Knysna 21km a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it, she says it's very social and such a pretty running route. I've heard that the Two Oceans is even prettier," I said (By now I had dug so deep that I was sure I could see Australia) The drill segeant mentioned that she'd run the Two Oceans 21km race last year and that it was SO much fun; "I'd love to do it again! Should we start training tomorrow?"
(gulp) I suddenly stopped mid-row. Looked at her, sweat dripping from my recently plucked and shaped brows and decided to stop being a wimp and embrace the old motto 'you only live once'...
"Sure," I said in an over-excited tone trying desperately to disguise the faint aroma of fear wafting from my gym-attired body. "Could she smell fear?" I thought to myself. (I wouldn't put it past her, this is the same woman who got me to do 20 minutes on the stairmaster nearly everyday, take up spinning and actually enjoy the 'previously avoided like the plague' activities)
If there is anyone that could actually get me outta the air conditioned gym and onto a road, it's her... although I will confess that halfway through our little 4km roadrun yesterday afternoon I was seriously regretting my decision. 'Til I convinced myself that the first run has to be the worst and it can only get better from here on in. Oh, and I figure if I wear shorts and a strappy top to run in I may even catch a tan, albeit the socks and trainers tan might not be the sexiest side effect of exercise.
Shock! Horror! Yip, I'm having a little trouble believing it myself. If it weren't for the aches and pains (in muscles I didn't even know I had) caused by my first training session a.k.a road run yesterday afternoon, I'd think that it had all been a really bad dream.
Alas! This is no elaborate dream sequence, this is real life with real hills and real roads and a very real drill sergeant-type running buddy. I have to give it to her, she has some mad skills and super-powers of persuasion...
There we were on Monday rowing away merrily after having done 50 minutes of cardio on a variety of butt bustin' torture racks, just chatting away about the weekend etc. when outta the blue I asked her if she'd like to incorporate a road run into our weekly fitness regime. [insert confession here] It was me, yes me, who started the slide down the slippery slope.
The drill sergeant smiled excitedly; "Thought you didn't like road running?," she asked. "You've always been more of an iPod, water bottle, air conditioned treadmill kinda girl." To which I responded, "I know, but maybe it's time to up the ante, maybe even work towards a goal like a 10km fun run or maybe even a half marathon," I continued to dig myself deeper and deeper into my self-made hole...
"My sister ran the Knysna 21km a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it, she says it's very social and such a pretty running route. I've heard that the Two Oceans is even prettier," I said (By now I had dug so deep that I was sure I could see Australia) The drill segeant mentioned that she'd run the Two Oceans 21km race last year and that it was SO much fun; "I'd love to do it again! Should we start training tomorrow?"
(gulp) I suddenly stopped mid-row. Looked at her, sweat dripping from my recently plucked and shaped brows and decided to stop being a wimp and embrace the old motto 'you only live once'...
"Sure," I said in an over-excited tone trying desperately to disguise the faint aroma of fear wafting from my gym-attired body. "Could she smell fear?" I thought to myself. (I wouldn't put it past her, this is the same woman who got me to do 20 minutes on the stairmaster nearly everyday, take up spinning and actually enjoy the 'previously avoided like the plague' activities)
If there is anyone that could actually get me outta the air conditioned gym and onto a road, it's her... although I will confess that halfway through our little 4km roadrun yesterday afternoon I was seriously regretting my decision. 'Til I convinced myself that the first run has to be the worst and it can only get better from here on in. Oh, and I figure if I wear shorts and a strappy top to run in I may even catch a tan, albeit the socks and trainers tan might not be the sexiest side effect of exercise.
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