So. What's up duuudes?
Yes... I am young and cheerful as an hot potato today. What's happened? Nothing, as some days before.
Let's start from the beginning: Monday, after a 2 weeks hiatus, we started playing football again. This time, instead of getting to the football pitch by bike/car/copter, I walked. Not too much, just 500 metres, and it had already happened that I walked, but this time was DIFFERENT (big suspense). I was carrying my sport bag as millions of times before, loosely hanging from my left shoulder because I'm cool, and it started rebounding on my back and side. Nothing new there either. But... the terror was behind the corner, horror was about to happen! Rebounding on my back this time, for the first time ever, it triggered the rebounding of the evidently new fat that was on my side: what it's commonly known as love handles. I had the clear feeling of layers and layers of fat gruesomely laying around and enjoying the ride. It was not the first time I enjoyed fat bouncing... but not on the side... not on the side!!!
So, let's start also with the facts:
- I am not fatter than before
Stop the facts.
Shitty me and my shitty lifestyle. Time to change, and since my friends are not helping me, putting matches always one next to the other (Mondays and Tuesdays my teams play football...) it's time to take my faith in my chubby hands.
|Chubby Me is happily waiting for the ball|
I'm gonna start running!! Yey!
Fuck myself... I hate running.
Anyway, for now the "circuit" is 4.4 km long (2.2 to go, 2.2 to come back, possibly alive). It took me 40 minutes today (and fuck apps like runtastic and similar shit: I already hate bringing with me the keys to my own house, I'm not gonna ship my mobile phone with me...): left around 5:40pm, came back around 6:20pm. I stopped 4 times:
- at 680 metres due to traffic light (TGTL! Thanks God Traffic Light!)
- at 1400 metres due to slightly dying
- at 2200 metres because I was halfway and it was time to stretch
- at 3000 metres because I was already dead, from here I walked until I was...
- at 3700 metres I started running again to get back home
- It's a whopping 9 minutes per km...
- Adjusting for the minutes I stopped (not walked, really just stopped) it's almost 7 minutes per km (I stretched and waited for recover and traffic lights around 10 minutes)
- Back aching (but it will never go away, this is an old issue)
- Pain in the shins... incredible pain... the same I already suffered playing football and that's actually the 2nd reason why I started running
I'm trying to go running every day for this week, until next match (Monday): if I survive I should already notice something. If not... I will have noticed something anyway.
Ah... I'm running without glasses or lenses on... so the world is less horrible and if I struck luck I'll be struck by a car.
P.s.: if tomorrow I'll gonna miss running it's because I've got an important appointment (beers)