Day 650 – Run

A couple of months ago, fresh from a bizarre but promising appointment with a physician, I wrote this post, in which I declared:

I’ve set myself a goal: I’m going to run 5km in 30 minutes with my son on his birthday next year

With hindsight, I probably should have asked him first, but if it becomes necessary, I’ll just pull parental rank on him.

Anyway, that run seemed like a great idea until the next two months happened and I was – once again – rather unwell. Regular readers will recall that I even chucked myself at a local pulmonologist in an effort to get better.

It didn’t work.

But the last few weeks have been better, and so I thought I’d push myself with my first run since Covid: my first run since June 27th last year.

This was never going to be a pleasant or pretty experience. BTV, I was at a level of fitness which meant I could knock out 5km in 30 minutes with not too much nastiness involved. Those days are gone (for the moment, at least).

Today’s effort was a reasonably paced 1.5km around the neighbourhood in the summer sun, including some hill. Quite a lot of hill, it seemed, although the stats seem to suggest differently.

Could I have managed 2km? No. The lights were beginning to go out at the top of the third incline, and so I thought it better to come home.

It’s quite depressing when you compare it with last June, but it’s nice to still be able to do anything, and it’s a big improvement on that first doctor’s appointment above, in which:

I got up to 6kph on a slight upward slope, for a whole 150 seconds

For the record, this was 8.8kph – including some slope – for 615 seconds. Better.

I’m really not used to starting over like this (although…). It’s clearly going to take some effort.

But I am up for the challenge.

Day 220 – Death by beach run

With the moon so full, the tides are fairly hefty at the moment and so we decided to make use of low water this morning to head down to the shipwreck. I decided that I’d combine this with a morning run, and meet the rest of the family there. It’s not too far – just over 3km on the road, so I decided to make a five of it by doing a couple of laps of the village and then heading down there via the coast.

The laps around the village went very well. Fast, fun and happy on the dirt roads. And then I went around the corner onto the beach – and into the 50kph headwind.

Eina. Ouch. Aïe. Huy. Autsch. Ey.

The combination of beach sand, pebbles, that southeasterly wind and yes, some (or more) beers yesterday evening, has actually killed me. Dead.

However, when what remained of me did eventually reach the shipwreck, it was all worth it. The kids had a climb and it was great to be out and about in the (very) fresh air and sunshine.

If you can find somewhere out of the wind, it’s a glorious day. It’s just sad that we’re heading back to Cape Town and reality again in a couple of hours.

But this wasn’t a bad start to the day at all.


I still can’t feel my legs.

Death by run

I was going to have a nice, gentle, controlled session at the gym this morning, but then I was asked to sort out an ailing cellphone and suddenly there wasn’t really time to get there before the parking (always an issue on Friday) would have been totally filled.

Still, lovely morning, so why not take advantage of the spring sunshine and go for a little 5km jog around the block(s)?

Well, having done a little 5km jog around the block(s), I now have a number of reasons. And the spring sunshine is one of them.

When I left home, it was 14°C. When I got back, it was 27°C.

I wasn’t gone that long. It just got very warm, very quickly.

I have no issue with running in the heat, as long as I know that I’m going to be running in the heat. (There are limits.)
I was not expecting this heat. This heat did not help.

Next up, football on Tuesday night. The most energetic game I have played in a long, long while. And while I had a lovely time, and we won a tight, frantic, occasionally bad-tempered game, sweet mother of beagles, I’ve been hurting since then. Upon awakening this morning, I thought I’d moved on and recovered, but within 500m of starting my run, it became clear that I was mistaken. Things were still quite broken. A sensible individual would have sensibly admitted defeat and returned home, sensibly.

I kept going.

And then there was Forest Drive, 650m of road during which you gain (or lose, I suppose, but not in this case) over 100m of altitude. A challenge on any day. It seemed longer, steeper, higher today. That’s probably because I donated blood on Wednesday morning. Usually, I’m back up to speed within 24 hours. That clearly hasn’t happened this time. There was a dramatic shortage of oxygen, not helped by the increasing heat (see above).

A sensible individual would have… ah, never mind.

I finished a hideous five point something with a 6:28 average. Dreadful, and I feel no better for it.

I will take these things into consideration next time, not least delaying repairing cellphones until after I have safely – and gently – gymed.

I’m physically damaged and I need to go to bed.

The recovery continues…

Not the Rand. That’s buggered.
No, I’m taking about my ankle.


Here is the result of my first run, “just” 4 months, 11 days and 5 hours after that fateful pothole related incident in January.

Slow and short, sure, but with no fitness and absolutely no confidence whatsoever, and on the wet, slippery, uneven pavements of Wynberg; yeah, I’ll settle for that.

The ankle seems fine, but pretty much everything else is stiff and sore.
Tomorrow is going to bring a world of pain. But I really don’t care. 😉