Slow start

Today was the first day of my new running regimen. I got out of bed (well, off the sofa) at 6am, checked my heart rate (45 bpm) and then got dressed and went out for a run. A ponderous, slow run, my legs heavy from last night’s effort. Even if I’d wanted to go faster, I doubt I would have persuaded my legs to move any quicker. I jogged up to the river, ran through Clarke Quay, deserted this early in the morning, and then took the slow route back home, finishing about 28 minutes after I started. Then back home, into the shower, and then I started sweating.

That is one strange consequence of Singapore; even if you have the most gentle run of the year, you’ll still get so hot that when you get home, one shower isn’t enough. I thought I’d adequately cooled off, but there was sweat beading all over my body as I tried to perform mundane tasks like the washing up before my wife and La Serpiente Aquatica Negra surfaced.

I took the precaution of wearing my compression socks to work, in case my legs needed more help recovering. I love wearing them under my suit trousers, getting a constant low-intensity hug all day, with nobody in the office any the wiser. Well, it’s more pleasant for them too, than seeing me wearing a full set of compression tights. I imagine.

I also took the precaution of taking a second shirt to work, because even after two showers I was still in the running for a wet t-shirt contest. If I’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of a formal shirt, I suppose. And if I’d had breasts. I changed shirt, found the coffee machine wasn’t working (just growling at me this morning, like it was grumpy and needed a coffee too) so I had to go back downstairs and buy a coffee. I’m now enough of a regular that they’re ready to make me my double espresso before I’ve asked for it, which is great except for days like today when I felt I deserved a cappuccino instead. But still, can’t complain about that.

This evening I got home to a bowl of fake beef stew, a faithful facsimile made possible by the judicious addition of mushrooms, vegetarian sausages and lots of red wine. My wife had also baked a huge box of ginger cookies. (Well, I assume it was her. It could have been La Serpiente Aquatica Negra, there were no witnesses.) Cookies and key lime pie may make it harder for me to stick to my plan of eating well, and a baby that wakes at 11 may make it harder for me to stick to my plan of sleeping well. And getting up at 6 again tomorrow for another short run…

28 minutes this week, easy pace.

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