Well, last night I went for my first 5k-training run outside. And it went fine, surprisingly, all things considered. Here’s my path:

As you can see, this is more than three miles, something I did not remember. I had made another path, but this almost-square was easier to follow. I couldn’t remember where the two mile and three mile markers were, which probably slowed me down because I didn’t really have mile-goals so I didn’t know how I was doing. Somewhere around Gower and Santa Monica, Sheryl Crow was just stuck in my head, on repeat, as I jogged down Santa Monica in sunglasses, sun setting over the Hollywood Hills.

I probably finished around 40 minutes. The run from Santa Monica to Sunset is entirely uphill, which I knew, but I didn’t know any other way to stay below Sunset. I thought that Sunset and Sycamore was the three mile marker, and at that point I was at 43:08, so I am guess I was around 40-41 at the actual three mile marker.

I did try to run the entire first mile, which did not happen. I blame this on my foot, which has been hurting on the arch, on my left shin, and on my two-week lapse. Nikki seems to think I can run a mile before slowing down to walk. I disagree. I work in short bursts. We’ll see…

Before I left for my run, Jeff made a comment about getting one of those running lanyards that you can put around your arm, so you don’t have to, you know, tie your key to your shoe. “Well, after this weekend, I don’t think I am going to be doing much running,” I said as I tried to finagle my key onto my lace.

“What? But…you can’t stop running! You’ve inspired me! You’re my hero!” he said. Now, everyone that knows Jeff can imagine the voice he was using — his half serious, half in jest voice, that usually ends up in him speaking in an accent (Spanish, Indian, etc.) But I could tell he was (somewhat) serious.

So maybe after this 5k, I’ll keep running. Or maybe I’ll take a break and do some serious swimming. I know my Dad is starting his 5K training, so it looks like I’ll need to at least keep it up to run one with him in the fall. We’ll see.

All I know is last night I had a cookie after dinner, and I didn’t feel a little bit bad. So maybe running isn’t the worst thing that’s happened (or been forced) into my life.