Thursday, April 23, 2009
I'm really getting into this exercise thing. I've been for a walk/run (run for five minutes, walk for ten, run for five etc...) every day since Sunday. I'm like Linford fucking Christie over here. You always assume that, should you have to, you could run like the clappers. Scarily, this is not the case. I discovered I can run for five minutes. Any more than that and I throw up, whether there's an murderous axe-wielding rapist running after me or not. I always thought I'd escape, but unless the rapist is more unfit than me, I doubt I would. You can bet he'd have been working out too so I'd have no hope, unless the throwing up put him off, which it might.
What I have noticed is that running and exercise in general punches stress and worry right in the face. When you're trying to figure out if your lung is about to give up, you don't have time for office politics and other assorted brain litter. It's brilliant.