Honestly, this morning I felt almost immobile. My legs were heavy, my breathing was laboured, and my running estimate for time would have come in at about 10:40 or so. I did push the pace in the last third of the run, but I thought I was just going to bring the time in slightly higher than usual. As it turned out, though, much to my surprise, my time for the morning was 10:10.
I just don’t understand this horrible exercise; but (as I was agreeing with an ordinand earlier this week) it does feel good to know I can do it, and to be not-overwhelmed by various other activities. For instance, I can remember a point at which I could no longer bound up the stairs in the college two at a time — but these days, it’s a doddle. It’s pretty obvious that running makes those moments of limberness and strength possible. Thus, I like the benefits, but I still hate the exercise.