Why walk? When I run a few days in a row, I try to give my knees a break. And, I knew I had RIPPED coming up on Tuesday and Wednesday ... which often includes a lot of the lunging, bouncing and side-to-side movements that are tough on those joints.
So walking seemed like a good idea. But I wanted miles, so I set my head on 8 miles and started.
Now, I can walk at about a 4.2 or 4.3 mile per hour pace, meaning I cover 8 miles in a little less than 2 hours. As such, I hunkered in for a nice, long hike.
Somewhere around mile 5.75, I couldn't take it anymore.
I kicked up the pace. My legs, almost "stiff" from walking, had to readjust to the faster pace and it took a minute or two for them to loosen up. But before long, I was running and I finished my 8 miles in no time.
At the end, as I was covered in sweat, I allowed my brain to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, I'm a runner.
Sure, I have run in a handful of organized events, but I've never done anything remotely as big as a marathon. I do get at least three days of running in each week, though the distances are not very long when compared to those I would consider "serious" about the sport. My speed certainly isn't fast and would probably be considered a nice jog in most circles. I don't have what most would consider to be a runner's svelte, lean physique.
But tell all that to my legs.
They want to move. My lungs want to burn. My arms want to pump.
Some days, I simply can't stop them all from doing what they want to do.
And because of that, I guess I am a runner.
Thank God I found out before it was too late.
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| This is a John Bingham quote and I love it. |
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