For the first time since last week, I ran yesterday afternoon after being inspired by the freaky warm weather Vancouver is experiencing this February. Not a long or strenuous run, just 2.5 miles from our place, down Cambie to the Olympic Athlete’s Village, along the new condo construction on Sixth and looped back. The full run stopped near the dog park in False Creek where I walked on my toes, did soldier kicks, and other stretches. I walked at a fast pace back to Cambie, ran up Cambie from Sixth to Sixteenth, and finished back here.
I was so happy to be outside, feeling my body move and feeling the sweat on my forehead, checking in on my heart rate, visualizing my running the BMO half-marathon in May, but I was quickly discouraged that my physical condition had deteriorated due to my inaction, that the firmness of just a few months ago was jiggling under the weight of cupcake crumbs.
This has become my annual training schedule: A period of superhero fitness due to consistent and progressive training, an earned rest that slides into indulgent inertia, and then a series of messy starts before training settles in that leads to the fitness. There is some weird comfort in trusting in this routine.