Come on, we gotta run to the choppers!

The reason that I haven't posted for nearly a week is that I've been exhausted. You see, I've been running.

In case it was not obvious from my last post, I'd been trying to psyche myself into running. It finally worked - last Saturday I went for my first run. And boy did it turn out to be everything I had expected!

Not.

7 minutes after breaking into a jog, I braked. For the next quarter of an hour I alternated between walking and jogging before giving up for the day. Then I took stock of what I had felt: no endorphin rush, no sense of superiority, and none of the tragic nobility that I had signed up for. All I had experienced was a mad frenzy of muscle fibres twitching and spasming in a desperate struggle to coil and uncoil without snapping like so many baked rubber bands.

Things got better over the next few hours thanks to generous amounts of sushi, the odd glass of whisky, and a house-warming party featuring an Irish hostess and a karaoke mike. (But an unfortunate detour involving an intensely anise liqueur and good old Vacillus Pendulus brought matters to an abrupt end).

Sunday morning dawned and I felt only slightly sore in the legs. Or so I thought until the soreness in my head faded and I realized just how much damage I had sustained. But I am proud to say that on Tuesday I was back pounding the road and this time I conducted myself with a dash more dignity. I've since gone through Wednesday feeling used but not ill-used.

And tomorrow will find me in my running shoes again.