Lately I’ve been saying how fine this Fitness Big Year has turned out to be. I employed the word “joyous” once. But daily I still grizzle. With 23 days to go, to hit my 4,000 kms cycling/1,000 kms jogging/100 gyms, I must run eleven more times and this means four times in one of the three weeks. That makes me quake with fear. Cycling is more flexible – I can’t run further than 10 kms in a session but I can contemplate logger rides – so I’ve pushed this week to notch up 138 kms, nearly 30 more than any previous week, the idea being to get comfortably close to 4,000 as soon as possible. Five days planned in Darwin over Christmas complicate matters – the heat kills kilometers. My left hamstring still niggles. I might be down with a minor cold. Thursday’s run was hellish and today’s will be the same. On and on and on . . . one complaint after another.
Maybe the bitching goes hand in hand with the joy? The pleasure is often the bodily sensation of being stronger and healthier – if this was easy, there’d be no progress.
So . . . I’ve exercised 64 days in a row and how special is that, eh? Riding a borrowed Canondale road bike along the Cooks River yesterday was special, today I’ll be there in my joggers. I’ll grizzle but I can’t wait.