The nice British lady was right.
When I got to the corner of Viruth Street and Benton Avenue this morning, she told me to start running. I would be running for the next twenty minutes, something I hadn’t done since I was in the Army more than 20 years ago.
My legs felt a little heavy at the outset, and they were burning as I crossed the Jack’s Run Bridge and started the slight-but-long incline into Bellevue.
And then it changed.
Somewhere along the way, my legs started to feel stronger. I wasn’t tired. I was still heading uphill, but I was starting to feel really good.
After the nice British lady told me to turn around, much of the trip back is downhill. It wasn’t hard. I turned down Marmaduke to run out the last bit of the workout, and I was sort of disappointed when the nice British lady told me to stop.
I was also thrilled. Twenty minutes. I did it. With energy to spare.
When I run my first 5K in December, I’ll likely have to run about twice the time I ran this morning. A month ago, I would be have said that sounded nearly impossible.
Now? I know I’m gonna do it. There’s no doubt in my mind.