Oops, I Did It Again… (The 15km Comeback)
From a 15km treadmill comeback to midnight laundry after a bed-wetting incident—life has a funny way of humbling you. I set out to prove I still had the stamina for a sub-2-hour half marathon, but I ended up learning a different lesson about grit, recovery, and the reality of "rest."
I knew a Britney reference would get your attention.
Today, I took the phrase "hit the ground running" quite literally. I clocked 15km on the treadmill—a genuine achievement considering I sprained my ankle just three weeks ago.
There was a time when running was a regular part of my rhythm. Nothing ultra-marathon level, but consistent. Eventually, the toll on my joints pushed me toward the (comparative) safety of indoor cycling and e-sports. But today? Today felt like a "must-do."
The Mental Game
I broke the run into segments. The first 40 minutes were purely mechanical: finding the right stride, settling into a cadence, and listening to my body. Once I found that "click," the competitive ego took over.
The thought immediately flashed: “I need to prove I can still run a sub-2-hour half marathon.” I adjusted my pacing perfectly to hit that 21.1k mark. I was in the zone. But then, life intervened in the best way possible. My wife asked if I’d join her and the kids for a shopping trip. After the second 40-minute stint, I realized I didn’t need the full 21.1k to prove the point. I was on track, the pace was there, and the mental grit was back.
The Physical Reality
Of course, my legs—having been retired from long distances for a while—had other opinions.
I was in that specific physiological state where you’re fine as long as you keep moving, but the moment you stop, the "bill" arrives. By the time I hit the locker rooms, I could barely navigate the stairs. I consoled myself with one thought: I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.
The Plot Twist
Narrator: He did not, in fact, sleep like a baby.
My daughter decided to wet the bed in the middle of the night. So, here I am. Wide awake. My legs are still radiating that post-run heat, pulsing with a dull ache that reminds me of the effort.
I’m exhausted, but I’m smiling. I love these mini-challenges I set for myself. They remind me that I’ve still "got it," even if "it" currently involves sore calves and midnight laundry.
Now, the only challenge left to conquer is figuring out how to fall back to sleep.
Goodnight.