As my name makes clear, at least to Flanders and Swann fans, I am a sloth. Given the choice between doing and being, I will opt for being every time.
My history of activity is telling:
- 2002: Entered Flora 5km on impulse. Did little to no training. Completed Flora 5km. Did nothing for two years.
- 2004: Entered Flora 5km on impulse. Did little to no training. Completed Flora 5km. Did nothing for three years.
- 2007: Entered London Triathlon (super sprint distance) on impulse. Did some training. Completed triathlon. Did nothing for two years.
- 2009: Entered Great North Swim on impulse. Did some training. Completed swim. Did nothing for 18 months.
- 2011: Entered Janathon on impulse…
As I knew my history, I made the decision that I would follow Janathon up with Febtathlon and I then followed that up with March Madness. Which is three months of regular exercise. Old habits broken, surely? I can no longer be a sloth. Would a sloth have done 13 parkruns in a row? Would a sloth have signed up for a 10km in May? Would a sloth have signed up for two half marathons within two weeks of each other?
Apparently, and emphatically, “yes”.
For on 1 April, I was away on a conference, out of my normal routine, and when my training plan called for a long run, my inner sloth overruled it and went to sleep.
And on 4 April, my training plan called for a run, and my inner sloth overruled it, ate a ton of chocolate and got the bus.
And today, my training plan calls for a run, and my inner sloth has decided to pass, using as its excuse the presence of stitches in my upper arm. An excuse that my sloth is sticking to despite being told quite clearly by the doctor that running is absolutely fine.
Apparently, my inner sloth has been treating January, February and March as a well-earned opportunity to go on holiday, but it’s now back, and reasserting itself with a vengeance.