I'm trying to get more into blog-reading.
Now that I am actually writing a blog on a fairly regular basis, I figure I should actually take a little time and begin reading the blogs of others, for a variety of reasons. Perhaps there are blogging rules about which I know nothing. Maybe I'll get inspired by something and come up with a new post of my own. Or maybe, I'll find that every thought I've ever had on this blog has already been spouted by someone else and I've been wasting your time all this while. Anything is possible.
One of the blogs I've started calling up from time to time is that of Luc Carl, who started following me on Twitter, at which point I decided to check out what he has to offer. The title of his forthcoming book, "The Drunk Diet," naturally caught my attention, and since he appeared to be a hard rocker/distance runner, it seemed like someone in whom I might have interest.
Turns out, according to the Wikipedia article I looked up much later, that 's actually Lady Gaga's ex-boyfriend. Now I feel powerful.
From time to time, when he's got an interesting article posted, I'll check it out, and he had something that caught my eye just a few weeks ago. He mentioned that he was going out for a long run and that, after three miles, he had to stop with a bad case of cement legs. If you've ever had them, you know exactly what it means.
What caught my eye in the post was his observation that people he knew assumed that, because he runs marathons, a three-mile run is just a joke to him, when in fact, it can be just as hard. Sure there are some people out there for whom running is easy until they're over 20 miles, but most of us are not like that. If it is hot outside, I still have a heck of a time getting through a strong four-miler, and without hearing that another runner felt that way, I might have been discouraged. Thus, the online runner community has made my life more fulfilling, and it gives me that much more confidence when, like yesterday, I head out for a four mile morning run before dawn.
My first half was good, but I wanted my second half to be better. This is unreasonable, considering that my first half was downhill, but I did not particularly care. I made up a scenario in my head of someone chasing me, and I let my legs push all the way back up the hill, hitting negative splits for an outdoor run, something that almost never happens for me, certainly not when I end on Half Mile Hill. I felt great after, and even better now, as I remember it.
But what feels the greatest, and what drives me to be better, is the idea that someone else might get inspired by it. The hope that someone else will read about this and say, you know what, I know exactly how it feels to fear a short run, and if he can get through it, so can I. It's a slim chance, but hey, Singapore is currently in second place for reading of my blog, and I would have never thought that could happen either.
The sky's the limit.
28 Minutes, 35 Seconds
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