I got to the gym today and realized that I'd forgotten something--my running foot.
Dammit. Mama always said that I'd lose my head if it wasn't glued on. She never said nothing about feet, though.
So I decided that since running was out of the question, I'd swim longer to make up for it.
Now I've only been swimming in the club pool for a few weeks, and when they told me that 35 laps in the 25 meter pool was a mile, I was sure that it'd be a long time before I hit that mark. Scuba diving aside, it'd been years since I'd seriously swam and it took a bit of getting used to again before I could just relax and focus on coordinated, efficient movement. There was, of course, also the whole missing foot thing to deal with. That adds another element to the equation because the kick cycle is no longer even.
But today just felt right, and instead of quitting after half an hour like I've been doing, I kept on. It was probably easier today because I hadn't run a 3-5 miles on the treadmill before hitting the pool. But whatever the reason, I was able to keep on for an hour and a quarter and knocked out 37 laps--35 for the mile, one for a victory lap, and one more because I still had some left.
A mile. Not bad. Not bad at all. I'm feeling a little soreness coming on now, but it's a good kind of sore. A "did something" sore. I feel good.
I might have to start looking into one of those run/swim/bike triathalons this coming year.
Of course that means that I have to start riding a bicycle again, too. I probably ought to get me one of those come spring.
Where does this "fitness" stuff stop, anyway?