To prepare for it, my personal trainer suggested that I go for a run on my own, once a week, in-between my sessions with him.
Eric Goh, my trainer.
For my first run, Eric said I should do at least 45 minutes. It sounded reasonable to me at that time.
First Run — Saturday, 6:30pm
It had been almost two years since I ran, so I started off with a slow jog. I believed 45 minutes wouldn’t be a problem with that pace.
Five minutes into the jog, I was ready to drop dead.
I felt really fatigued. And hungry. I was at East Coast Park. The fragrance of meat being barbequed by weekend revellers taunted me left and right as I plodded along unsteadily like a drunken zombie trying to do a marathon.
The task I had set out for myself began to feel impossible, but I knew that endurance training is really about mind over matter. If your mind says you can do it, your body will do it. Simple!
So my mind constantly gave my body pep talks.
It said, “You can do it. You can do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.”
It told my legs, “Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.”
It told my abs, “Sexy abs. Sexy abs. Sexy abs.”
Every so often, my body would plead, “Can we stop?”
The answer would come back screaming, “SEXY ABS!”
Twenty minutes later, while my mind was still going “you can do it you can do it sexy abs” like a broken record, my legs suddenly stopped jogging and started walking.
My mind was, like, “What the…?! I didn’t tell you to stop!!”
My body gave it the proverbial finger and said, “Nyah!”
Over the next 10 minutes, I start-stopped several times as both mind and body sought to wrest control.
Eventually, I gave up and went home. I was starting to break out in cold sweat. By the time I reached home, I was so dizzy and exhausted that I had to lie down on the floor. I couldn’t move for 10 minutes. I just lay there and breathed heavily.
Later, when I recounted my experience to Eric, he laughed and laughed.
He said it was so funny. And he just wouldn’t stop laughing.
Great. I’ve gotten myself hooked up with a crazy sadist of a trainer.