I thought I would take it easy; go for a nice relaxed run, get my heart pumping, but avoid over-exertion as it has been so long since I last ran. Do a 20-minute run, I thought. Do it and get on with my day.
I ended up running 5.25km in 32 minutes. When I finally stopped, I felt as if my thighs would give out on me at any minute, and I could barely walk straight like a normal person when making my way back to my room. Climbing up the two flights of stairs to my room felt like the hardest thing I'd ever done. For once, I actually made an effort to stretch properly (and took the chance to work on my abs as well); that was how much pain I was in.
But guess what? It feels amazing. It feels so good. It feels better than eating a chocolate cake...no, wait, that's a bit too much of a stretch. But it feels amazing, this feeling not just of accomplishing a goal, but exceeding it, pushing myself beyond what I thought I could do. This is why I enjoy working out and exercising even if I dread it just before I start my routine: the feeling of accomplishment. The instant feeling of instant accomplishment. It is wonderful.
Having said that, I have noticed that I tend to do really well at running after a long period of not doing it. I wonder if I can match this - maybe exceed it - when I start to run regularly again. In all honesty, the only reason I ran so far and for so long was because it was windy, and I would have been running against the wind on the way back. Too tiring, right? Also really unpleasant when the wind is blowing full blast in your face, drowing out your music. So I kept running forward, past where I usually turned back, into the little meadows. The way back was strenuous and painful, as expected; and I wanted to stop at the pub, but I told myself to slacken the pace instead of stopping completely. So I dropped the pace, ran past the start of the boardwalk where I thought I would stop, and finally stopped at the end of Thompson Lane.
And then I walked back and felt like dying but in the midst of this feeling like dying, I also felt so damn good.
On another note, I feel a bit bad for wannabe-academics with bad English and hence a bad writing style. It really colours one's impression of the quality of the work, albeit unfairly. I am thankful that, although it's literally the only thing that I can do well, I can at least write well. That is so important in this line of work.
Anyway. I'm gonna get on with my day now. I have to focus on this paper...FOCUS!