From Couch (ok, not quite) to Half Marathon: Week 7

But people still walk past me on my “runs”

This year I turned d;sldkgja;jf;ag years old (none of your damn business, ha!) so I thought, if I am gonna get fit, now would be the time. I decide to get serious about running. I had been going for a short jog now and again but I needed to “up my game”. (I might not be a real athlete but hey, I do know some of the lingo.) And I had read it was a good sport for a d;as;ldjasdjkfklf-year-old.

Now what? Hmm. Well, I figured I was better off having a goal, so I signed up for the London Landmarks half-marathon. I suppose I could have just gone for a 10k but I thought… “Let’s quote unquote GO FOR IT.”

It’s “only” half but, wouldn’t you know, it turns out a half marathon is still pretty flipping long: 21.2 kilometers /13.1 miles. Yikes.

I found a training schedule on a website called — ha! — (I like their attitude).


(I like the way the “Day 3” numbers follow a similar pattern to the numbering of Star Wars movies, i.e. 3, 5, 6, 4….)

A couple of months ago, I was panting for breath after half a mile. Last Tuesday, I clocked 5.78 miles and I was barely out of breath. (Please note that that is more than I needed to do for my first run of Week 7 AND…. THAT ROUNDS UP TO SIX FLIPPING MILES! WHOO HOO GO ME.) I wasn’t even terribly tired. True, someone walked past me on my last quarter mile. (When I say I run slow, I mean I. Am. Slow.) But fuck it, I jogged nearly SIX MILES. I mean… c’mon! Go team!

Then this past Saturday, I had to do another six miles. I’ve joined a running club near Kensington Garden but the route is only (listen to me! “only”!) three miles so I ran to the meeting place instead of taking public transit. What a girl’s gotta do to get her miles in! (OK. Well, the very last mile I had to take an Uber because I was “running late” — so to speak!)

After my “run”, I went and got a very small pepperoni pizza. Gave myself a little reward.

I need to stop putting the word “run” in quotes. But how can I not poke fun at myself when people stroll past me on my “run”?


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