I’ve been running. Running a lot, it seems.
I remember a couple years back when I was talking about aiming for a ten kilometer run… someday, thinking aloud to Karin in the car that it would be cool if I could lace up my shoes and think little about such trot around the neighborhood. Then I tried, and I ran for five hundred meters along out nearby park and almost threw up. But little by little, step by step, clinic by clinic, practice by practice I’ve added distance.
But I’d never run longer than ten kilometers at a stretch, give or take. In fact, if you go back to those early ‘virtual run’ posts where after multiple runs over the course of a whole week I’d racked up a meager accomplishment of a little under ten clicks and felt wowed by the effort. Fair enough. It was an effort, but…
On Sunday we completed a twelve kilometer run. In real distance, that took us on an arcing tour of the neighborhood, from the store to the utility corridor, into the Whitemud Creek valley and on a hilly trail dash to the bridge near Snow Valley. And that was only half way. Then we turned around and ran back. And honestly, I’d never run a twelve click run before Sunday. Ever. And next Sunday I get to do a fourteen. Happy Father’s day.
Cumulatively, in case you are curious, my mega-goal virtual run has taken me from my house, out to the highway, down the QE2 and right now I’m just passing the turnoff that would lead me into the tiny town of Balzac (just a hop and a skip North of Calgary). That’s right. I’ve run two hundred and seventy kilometers in 2009. So far. And I’m scheduled to do at least fifty more before June is out.
And the half marathon is — as of today — two months away.
I’m sore. We’ve been hill training on Thursday evenings. That means we run two or three clicks to a hill, run up and down the hill multiple times, then run back.
I went out on my own last week intending to do a five click run. I added an extra two just for the heck of it.
I’ve been trying to keep myself in the top half of the class, too. That might be stupid, since there is really no objective measure of that. I just try and run with the little cluster of folks who set the faster pace. They run a 5:15 pace. I used to call that a sprint. Now it’s a five click jaunt. Try sprinting for five kilometers.
My watch tells me I’ve burned nearly thirty thousand calories — this year — just running. Google tells me that’s about eight and a half pounds of fat. My belt tells me that’s about one notch.
I’m going to need new shoes next month. I’ve nearly worn out the pair I have. No really. A hundred dollar pair of shoes used exclusively for running, shot. Well, if I estimate a stride length of even just one meter… that’s over two and a half million steps this year alone.
I’m running a lot it seems. Even Claire asks me every time I appear to be leaving the house, these days: “Daddy. Nun-neen?” I suppose there are worse things she could be asking me.