Despite having only sporadically jogged before all this, I’ve run 600km in the past 12 months. I’ve stretched, flexed, accumulated gear and tracked every metre via apps (my full total is actually 642.8km, but who’s counting). To outside eyes, it might seem like I’ve found a burning passion for the hobby, but I’m here to report quite the opposite. I run, and will continue to run, but I hate running with every fast-twitch muscle fibre of my being.
Well, yes, but. We’re talking about a mile a day. That’s 15 minutes at a brisk walk (marching speed) rather than even running. Actually, it’s about the distance I used to swim when the pools were open.
That is, he goes for a daily trot. For this there is gear and apps? It’s actually the same distance as I do on my little elliptical machine. Or, as John B puts it:
he prides himself on having run 50k a month or 1 mile a day – when I was 70 I did a couple of 50km races under RWA rules (they took me 6 hours 9 minutes +/- a several seconds each) and did up to 100km in a day in training although recently lockdown (and the after-effects of a torn quadriceps from a long jump) has restricted me around 100km per week. In my 50s I knew a couple of guys also in their 50s who not only *raced* (as distinct from just running) marathons but raced London-Brighton (yes, I do mean that they *raced* it in their 50s!! – I never got near to thinking I could even run it). This wimp got paid to run one-quarter of the distance that this over-70 does in his rehab programme from a major tear in his quadriceps …
Is it young people today? Or just that it’s in The Guardian?