I went for a run

I went for a run. A short run. On Wednesday afternoon, it the pleasant cold pre-dusk of a sunny winters day. I haven’t gone for a run since well, lets just call it forever (it was probably still the nineties, it was that long ago), so this was a REALLY BIG DEAL. It made my lungs hurt. A LOT. However, I managed to strike the balance so that the entire experience was so so entire horrifying that I would never want to go for a run ever again. Surprisingly too, my legs didn’t hurt afterwards, although I feared that they might.

On Thursday morning, whilst still feeling exuberantly proud of actually having gone for a run, Johnny B (a blogger which I frequently read) posted and entry on exactly the same thing – going for a run after forever, and fearing that it would hurt – which made me feel strangely connected with the world. It was almost like I was tapping into the collective subconscious of the blogosphere. This may or may not be what convinced me to go for another run Thursday. Bad idea.

Logic, as well as conventional wisdom had me convinced that if I stretched before and after my run, warmed up and cooled down well and ran exactly the same distance on Thursday as on Wednesday, my lungs will hurt again but my legs will not hurt (perhaps a little, but not significantly). Logic and conventional wisdom were both wrong. It hurt. It still hurts. After sleeping, more stretching and lavender-oil rubbing. And the question I ask is; WHY?