(Posted on November 8, 2007 in my old blog)
I spent my first morning in Tokyo running on the streets and pathways of Shinagawa. The crazy part was, not only did I run for one hour, which I usually do only when I register for a 10K fun run, but I ran with Ani who is a national team triathlete/coach.
I first thought that we would somehow separate after we leave the hotel. I mean, I know how triathletes train and I was thinking there is no way I can keep up with her. I have not been running for what seems like ages. I took up jogging again once a week last month and only logged between 2.5 to 3K tops each run.
So there I was at 7:00 AM, walking out of the Grand Prince New Takanawa hotel with Ani and thinking how stupid I was not to have thought of wearing a jacket. The air was crisp and I was feeling cold by the time we turned the first corner. Then Ani told me that we could run together since she will just do “easy” training. She said we will run for an hour then we will go back.
Cool, I said. And then we ran. In less than 10 minutes I did not feel cold anymore. I actually began to enjoy looking at the scenery around me. Thirty minutes into the run I began to question the logic of what I was doing. I was still feeling good, but this was when I started thinking that a triathlete’s “easy” pace is different from an ordinary person’s definition of it.
But I was really having fun running with Ani by the time I began feeling the discomforts that I resolved to try stick to the plan and finish it with her. I mean, I knew that she was really setting a very relaxed pace by her standards so I thought I should just do my best to keep up with her.
Fortunately, I was able to quickly slip into my force field and focus on the task at hand. I am really glad I did not listen to those tiny little voices in my head telling me that I cannot do it. My resolve is such that I felt a lot of feelings that brought me back to another time, another life (back when running is part of a daily routine and exercise is not just a whim). I am happy to realize that somehow, that part of me is still there and that I can draw a lot from it when and if I have to.