Not complaining.

Pfieuw. Hehe. Out of breath. Broken. Whipped. “Kaput”!
There’s this crazy colleague of mine, who got the stupidest idea in her head of doing a half marathon. 13.1 miles. 21.1 kilometer. 21100 steps of 1 meter.
Last week, she started doing her 3 month schedule to prepare herself for this event. I decided to join her every now and then, just to keep fit myself. Holy crap, what a wrong decision that was!


Last Friday we did four stints of seven minutes fast running, alternated with four minutes at a slower pace. I only just survived that fourth time…

Things got worse today. Sixteen short (!) sprints of 200 meters, with 3 minutes of dribbling in between. It seems not too much, but oh my god… Sixteen is a lot!
Surprisingly enough we didn’t slow down. Our sixteenth sprint was still as fast (or slow?) as our first one.

I can only admit that my admiration for runners has grown a lot bigger since I started running with her. The time and the endless effort she puts into her training, her food and her rhythm of life is quite unbelievable. She sets her goal and goes for it.

I can feel every muscle in my legs. My feet are overheated. Drops of sweat are running down my spine.
But hey, that’s the gorgeous feeling after a workout: sweaty and sticky.
I’m not complaining.

Have to go now, my reward is waiting for me: a long, hot shower!