I don't have a good reason for including the picture above, other than to point out it is the most recent chocolate I have consumed. Some run to improve their health. Some run to raise money for people who have fallen ill or on hard times. Some people run because they want to prove something to themselves, to others, to the world. Some run because they are really into that awful motivational house music that people play at gyms. I run so I can eat chocolate.

I broke from precedent today and did something sensible. I started slow. I've never actually started slow. All of my previous attempts to get into running hit a pretty significant wall. I'm not talking about THE WALL that runners go on about, as I usually hit that in under a minute of moving faster than a leisurely stroll. I'm talking about getting to a point where you are done. Just done. No more running for you. I always get there. I used to get there thanks to niggling injuries. I have been lucky recently, and I've been using shoes for over a year that seem to suit me better, but really I needed to do what countless online articles and even one random stranger on my Nike Plus account advised me to do: start slow.

So I have done. I downloaded running guide podcasts from The Guardian. I put in my earphones. I walked for a bit, ran for a minute, walked for a minute and a half and repeated it for half an hour. Even though I covered barely half the distance of my previous run, a slog characterized by my trademark swift slouching while trying not to cry interspersed with lone survivor of sneak Viet Cong attack paced trundling, I felt great. I had those wonderful endorphins running through me and I felt both tired and good, simultaneously. I understand this is how things are supposed to feel. 

I don't actually like running, you see. I like it when the running's over. I'm the same way with writing. I'm vampiric really, except that I have to create something from which to suck the energy. Thus, exercise and writing and anything that feels remotely "productive." My two mile walk with some 60 second jogs in the middle felt productive though. Let's go with that for now.

My first lapse...

... Hopefully not of many.

Lapsing is what I do, when it comes to exercise. But I got myself up and running again this week. Pun intended. I've also started weights up again, so let's see where it goes from here.

Things I've learned this week:

I need a walking break per mile of jogging.

I like weight machines (I hadn't used one in quite some time).

Indoor running tracks are awful, at least for weak minded folk like myself. Each lap brings another opportunity to give up.

I'm sticking with it though. If only for the milkshakes and the ice cream and everything else.