Diary of a Mad Housewife

11 March. After weeks and weeks of plodding along on a treadmill, as advised by my trainer, my new Polar heart-rate monitor showed that I wasn't even hitting an aerobic training rate without sprinting. Sprinting??? For God's sake.

So today I hit the streets with a plan: I would warm up with a brisk ten-minute walk, then jog for a block and walk for a block, alternating to complete a bit over two kilometers or 30 minutes, whichever came first. Ha! I hadn't counted on a time warp.

The so-called blocks in the park near my house are very, very long because the running path curves again and again in order to prolong the agony. After my first jogged block, I realized I couldn't phone for an ambulance because I didn't have my cell phone, and I didn't have enough breath to call out to other joggers for help.

After the second jogged block, my leg muscles were trembling, and by then I had noticed the time warp: the blocks I walked lasted, oh, maybe ten seconds. But when I jogged, the block seemed to stretch on and on, to infinity and beyond. My running book says that in order to calibrate the effort needed to advance, without winding up in the hospital, you should jog until you are really noticing the work, then go for 30 more seconds. Ha, again!

Then something magical happened on block 4. Finally I managed to slow down, replicate my foot placement from the treadmill (you have no idea how comfy it is to have the machine move the surface along under your feet!), and suddenly I could breathe. I managed to finish the couple of kilometers, work up a sweat, stretch, and walk home. It is with great pride that I tell you my knees do not hurt. It is necessary to mention this because aching knees are the bane of every runner. On the other hand, every other body part is killing me, so bring on the Advil.

More tomorrow. Adrián, my trainer, will be in the park on Tuesday morning. We have one year to get me in shape for the Austin 5K.