I don’t run with my friend Tim. Actually, I don’t run with any of my running friends. They’re too fast for me, and I’d be the quicksand that would drag them down. So as much as I like group exercise and training partners—and understand the value of peer pressure to improve performance—I run solo.
I box with Tim. I lift with Tim. I’ve played hoops with Tim. But I don’t run with Tim.
Last week, though, Tim and I—who live maybe five miles apart—were in the same city some 4,000 miles away. He had arrived in London early one morning after an all-night flight. I had already been in town, was acclimated, and took a few runs around the neighborhood. He was lagged, but he wanted to run.
Only problem? He didn’t really know where he was, where he could go, or easily find his way around after only being in the city for a few hours. So he sent me a text.
“What up? Run?”
RELATED: 11 It didn’t feel great, but it didn’t feel
I tried to back-door my way out of it—maybe if I could put him off just enough, he would talk himself out of it. “Finishing up some grading. What time you thinking?”
Shoes & Gear.
Sonuva.
Since I had already run some routes around majestic Hyde Park, how selfish would it be for me to bail? My friend wanted to run, and he needed a guide.
“4:30 in the lobby?” I wrote.
“K,” he replied. I had three thoughts: 1) Dammit 2) Why couldn’t you just be happy with a late-afternoon gelato? 3) I’d really prefer you use a thumbs-up emoji than a capital K.
When we met, I rattled off my usual disclaimers like I was reading the fine print of a medicine bottle. Gonna be slow, you sure you want to do this, side effects are that you’re going to be super-pissed at me holding you back, blah blah…
He told me to shut up and that he didn’t want to hear it.
RELATED: He said he was flexible
We started up toward the park at a pace that was easy for him, but cranked a notch or two for me. The first mile ticked by, and I was startled by the time. No way could I keep up. And I said as much.
Health - Injuries.
“See that guy,” he said of someone who just blazed past us. “That’s how the bottom of your feet need to look. Pick up your damn feet.”
“Yeah, but,” I said, huffing through an explanation about how it’s not that easy, blah blah…
“I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “I’ve seen you do it.”
“Yeah, but that was some pounds ago.”
“I’ve seen you do it.”
Nutrition - Weight Loss.
“Don't you fall behind. Keep up.”
I followed instructions.
“Pick up those Fred Flintstone feet of yours.”
I looked down at the paces at mile 2, mile 3, mile 4.
“We can stop here,” I said at about 4.25, a few blocks away from the hotel.
“No, we’re finishing.”
and Snapchat at @ProfSpiker.
It didn’t feel great, but it didn’t feel bad.
He said he was flexible.
I box with Tim. I lift with Tim. I’ve played hoops with Tim. But I don’t run with Tim.
…
Ted Spiker set a PR in the number of days in a row he had gelato, often opting for coconut and stracciatella. You can follow him on Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat at @ProfSpiker.
