Rehab in Lockdown

This morning, I went for a run. I’ve been doing a lot of exercise this last six weeks, but it has all involved a lot of walking and gentle cycling. Not running. Once upon a time, I used to run a lot. Arguably, I learned to run before I learned to walk. I didn’t walk anywhere. Too slow. So I ran. I ran to school, I’d run cross country races at school, sometimes twice in a day, and then I’d run home. When I went round to a friends house, I ran there. When I played football, I was the one who furiously chased the ball around the pitch for the full game, rather than play any particular position. 

Even my foul smoking habit did not stop me from running. In 1999 I signed up to join the RAF, who suggested that if I was unable to run a mile in about 5 minutes then I might struggle through basic training. My first effort was in the 8 and and half minute range. Over the next few months I got it down to 6 and a half minutes, but that was as fast as I could go. So I kicked smoking, and within a few weeks was knocking a mile off in just under 4 and a half minutes. That’s a pace of 1km in under 3 minutes in today’s money.

I ran a lot in Mexico, participating in plenty of 10k and Half Marathons. I was still puffing on my chosen brand of cancer sticks, but I managed to keep a reasonable pace. I’d be at or near 5kms a minute over a 10k run. And then, at some point in 2010, my knees went. My left knee in particular. So I limited myself to 10k runs at most. But my knees worsened, so I just ran 5k races. But that seemed pointless. So I stopped running.

Over the intervening years, every now and again, I’ll go for a run and test my knees. And my knees give me the same answer each time. No, we don’t work anymore. They are ok on treadmills in a gym. And they are ok if I go really, really slowly. And they are better on soft, flat ground. But my days of of long distance running with any sort of enthusiasm are pretty much done for.

But this morning, I thought I’d give the knees that occasional test. Parkstone golf course isn’t terribly hilly. The ground is soft. And the scenery is a delight. So off I went, to see what my knees would say. Their response? Well, this isn’t too bad. Maybe we can cope with this. That was encouraging. Today was a 5k run and I was pretty pleased with the pace – 6.46mins per km. And that without really pushing myself. Perhaps I’ll get up to 10k and down to 5kpm before the lockdown ends and we are all ejected from Parkstone golf club. That’s the goal.

But there was another test on my body today. This is my first run for a couple of years. And therefore my first since I completely kicked smoking more than 5 and a half months ago. How are my lungs? Well they felt really good. Completely fine. Apart from the unfortunate inhaling of a tiny fly 2ks into the run, which did cause an alarming amount of choking, at no point at all did I feel even slightly breathless. As good as new? No, probably not. But the reality is, providing I stay off the wicked weed (and I shall) it will be my knees that are the greatest limit on my running. Not my lungs. I celebrate that.