I hate running. I decided long ago that someone told me that I had flat feet and that is what I go with as an excuse for not running. Its probably not true. I should maybe find out. Excuses are great security blankets. To cuddle with and snuggle with when the storm comes. Well, the storm rolled in. One hundred laps of the track. It may be the hardest thing I have ever done. Why do things that you know you can do? Because its easy dumbass. I suppose the easy road is how I got into this mess in the first place.
I decided that if I did fifteen laps a day I would end up with 105 laps which is that actual distance (-1 lap) of a full marathon. The problem with this equation is that you have to basically run a 5k race every day for a week. Shitty. The other problem was that I hadn’t run outside much since beginning Operation 180. It is way harder than the treadmill. The one good thing is that two local high schools have tracks open the public 24/7. So I had no excuses. It was strange to run on my old high school track. I remember having to run the track in gym class. Many moons ago. It didn’t seem as far back then.
I did the fifteen laps five days in a row. I thought it would get easier but it got increasingly more difficult as the laps started to pile onto each other. For the most part, I would run 12 laps (5k) then walk the last three. One thing I didn’t account for was the bugs. I think I might have lost more weight that week but I ingested probably four to five pounds of bugs. One night I came home after running and my daughter started looking at me weird. “You’ve got bugs all over your face.” The sweat had captured at least a hundred bugs. Stuck to my forehead. Imagine that news report in the bug world. “100 dead. Bizarre sweaty man accident claims innocent lives.”
It was made more difficult when I missed a day. I had to do 20 and 25 laps on the last two days. I had to walk more of the laps but it got done. It felt like a major accomplishment. Tiny victories.
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