Take no thought for the morrow
Well I tried.
The thing is that I spent almost two weeks doing week 3 of the running app, C25K, because I wanted to avoid a big increase in running time on a Monday morning. Some Mondays I'm physically very tired and every Monday I'm a bit vulnerable after the train wreck that was the day before's preaching.
So last Friday when I inadvertently checked what awaited me this morning I was dismayed when I saw that I was to move from 2 min, 3 min, 3 min, 2 min last Friday (a total of 10 minutes) to 3 min, 4 min, 4 min, 3 min this morning (a total of 14 minutes).
Now package it anyway you like, and they do package it well, but 10 minutes to 14 minutes is an increase of 40%. Almost half as much again. On Monday morning.
Mrs Davey, who crossed this threshold with ne'er a moment's hesitation, said, "Yes, but you aren't going from 10 minutes to 14 minutes. You're going from 2 minutes to 3 minutes. That's just 1 minute more." I could fault neither her maths nor her logic, but my mind was not put at rest.
Anyway, what to do? Do I repeat Friday, making a round two weeks doing week 3? The prospect seemed unappealing.
I decided to plough on, but to take it easy. What mattered was not to go fast, smoothly or elegantly. What mattered was to go for 14 minutes. That's all.
The conditions were favourable. A nice, claggy fog.
I lumbered up the hill to the vines.
"Ding! Start running."
I started running.
An elderly lady overtook me pushing her zimmer frame. "Bonjour!", she gaily cried, brandishing her baguette.
The snails of Pessac, drawn out by the damp, played chicken, daring each other to slither across my path.
In my head Panis Angelicus played in an endless loop. While Aquinas' words don't do much for me, César Franck's simple melody provided a numbing mantra for my run. (doo-doo-doo-doo-doo PAU-- PER-- PAU-- PER-- SER-VUS-- SER-VUS ET HUM--ILIS)
On I thundered.
It was not swift.
It was not smooth.
It was not elegant.
But it was 14 minutes. Yes! Did it!
The thing is that I spent almost two weeks doing week 3 of the running app, C25K, because I wanted to avoid a big increase in running time on a Monday morning. Some Mondays I'm physically very tired and every Monday I'm a bit vulnerable after the train wreck that was the day before's preaching.
So last Friday when I inadvertently checked what awaited me this morning I was dismayed when I saw that I was to move from 2 min, 3 min, 3 min, 2 min last Friday (a total of 10 minutes) to 3 min, 4 min, 4 min, 3 min this morning (a total of 14 minutes).
Now package it anyway you like, and they do package it well, but 10 minutes to 14 minutes is an increase of 40%. Almost half as much again. On Monday morning.
Mrs Davey, who crossed this threshold with ne'er a moment's hesitation, said, "Yes, but you aren't going from 10 minutes to 14 minutes. You're going from 2 minutes to 3 minutes. That's just 1 minute more." I could fault neither her maths nor her logic, but my mind was not put at rest.
Anyway, what to do? Do I repeat Friday, making a round two weeks doing week 3? The prospect seemed unappealing.
I decided to plough on, but to take it easy. What mattered was not to go fast, smoothly or elegantly. What mattered was to go for 14 minutes. That's all.
The conditions were favourable. A nice, claggy fog.
I lumbered up the hill to the vines.
"Ding! Start running."
I started running.
An elderly lady overtook me pushing her zimmer frame. "Bonjour!", she gaily cried, brandishing her baguette.
The snails of Pessac, drawn out by the damp, played chicken, daring each other to slither across my path.
In my head Panis Angelicus played in an endless loop. While Aquinas' words don't do much for me, César Franck's simple melody provided a numbing mantra for my run. (doo-doo-doo-doo-doo PAU-- PER-- PAU-- PER-- SER-VUS-- SER-VUS ET HUM--ILIS)
On I thundered.
It was not swift.
It was not smooth.
It was not elegant.
But it was 14 minutes. Yes! Did it!
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