I’ve wanted to get back at writing for ages now. I’d read about 750words.com, probably through reading Sean Bonner’s site, and thought it sounded pretty nifty. Using the Internet for good (i.e. self-improvement) is always a welcome change. Sure, I could just use something like Word or a text editor to write with, but the idea of logging in somewhere that required more effort than pecking out 140 characters, or trying to come up with a snappy/pithy comment, or one-button-You-Tube-embedding, seemed appealing.
Well, here I am.
I think that I’m *finally* coming to the realization that content doesn’t have to be mind-blowingly brilliant, just semi-worthy of reading, even if by accident. I’m not going to crank out the kind of stuff that has people linking away to my doorstep (that’s not the initial plan, anyhoo). I mean, if I’m going to go to the trouble of paying for space, a domain name, installing a CMS, etc., the least I could do is actually do SOMEthing with it. [ zinger about 'nothing' being the least I could do goes here ]
Naturally, coming up with 750 words on a semi-regular basis that are worthy of reading will always be a challenge, though more so at first. Writing about what you know has been the ol’ adage. My problem is that I tend to know a little bit about a lot of things (but I don’t know enough about you – sorry, couldn’t resist), which can either be a blessing or a curse. I haven’t decided yet. I hope to be able to peck out anything from personal interests and updates, to what/where I am at this stage of my go around the sun, to anecdotes, to whatever flights of fancy I’m engaged in.
At present, I’m fighting, and winning, the battle of the bulge. It was two years ago yesterday that I decided to put on my running shoes and head outside, rather that to the local gym. I’d been using a treadmill for approximately one year before that, getting myself to running 5K IN A ROW without stopping. I’d even been so brave as to run 10K on the treadmill one evening years ago. For the first 35 or so years of my life I’d never set foot in a gym. Once I started going, I went pretty regularly, especially since there was a kids’ room where I could drop my son off and he could play with his Nintendo DS for a couple of hours while I exercised. Notice I didn’t say “worked out”, because that would have you thinking I’m all buff from lifting weights. Once I was able to attain 5K on the treadmill, the thought of running along our local bike trail seemed like it would be easy. It wasn’t.
I’m sure there are pile of sites out there arguing the pros and cons of treadmill v asphalt running. I’m not going to bother with contributing to that exchange, as I can only speak from personal experience. Treadmill running was much easier. The first time I went outside for a proper run as an adult was along our local bike path. I didn’t have any gadgets to measure distance, stride, times, etc., just me, my shoes and my son on his bicycle, all on a nice Saturday morning. About 10 – 15 minutes into my run, I realized just how easy I had it using a treadmill. This run was fucking HARD. I started to get really bummed out, thinking, “I can do 5K on a treadmill, no prob – what the fuck is going on here?” Once I hauled my sorry carcass home, I went to Google Maps to plot out my route and figure out how far I’d just run. To my surprise, it was a bit over 6K, which made me feel better about myself. From then on, I bought myself a Nike + iPod kit and haven’t set foot in a gym since.
Less than a year after my first outdoor run, I ran my first and only competitive race (so far). I ran the Mississauga 10K in a little over 51 minutes, which I’m lead to believe is an okay time. I say “competitive” when it was really more just participatory, though I’m sure there’s still some merit to it. I’ll have to flush that thought out some other time.
I’ve lost over 30lbs in approximately three years, exercising at home, using soy milk each morning and not eating French fries with every other meal. I’ve also taken to running with minimalist footwear and going out on the occasional barefoot run. But that, my friends, is another story.
