The 6minute Mile

Ok I have to confess, I haven't been running! *spoiler alert*

Five days ago I started off running with a bang! And like a star that burns too bright, I burned too fast... puking my guts and having the worst muscle pain since I realised that I'm no different from my father, also helped my decision to take a "break" - which we all know is code for "I give up!"

I know quitting is bad and bla bla bla - plant a tree.

But before you rightly label me a "quitter," one good thing did emerge out of all this. And that is I got to think, and as most people that know me will attest I rarely, if ever, do! So see you judgmental person you, something good did come out of my quitting - so quitting aint so bad! *at least thats what I tell myself to avoid the shame of slitting my wrists*

Ok back to the thinking. Well, it got me thinking of the many things that I have given up on halfway through because, at the time, I thought they were just too bloody hard. In retrospect though, calling myself horrible names because I gave up on my goals is really really... the only sensible thing to do *sad frowny face*

Ok so going down this list of my life's regrets, and at 27 thats one long ass list, I noticed my biggest regret. And it wasn't even what I thought it would, but like all regrets worth having it was a cliche in that it was about a girl - let me say, it was about THE girl (more on that later), the one I called my Cinnamon Buns.

Signs from God #1: You know you are fat when you name the most beautiful girl you've never seen after food!

So it is decided! I am going to run again! *yeah*

I have picked my sorry ass up, and if it wasn't for the rains outside I'd be running up a storm right now, pissed off as hell for quitting in the first place and proving my father's uncle right. In short, I'm back to running, back on track and before the end of the year I, Birbal "Fatass" Boniface Musoba, will run the 6minute mile *queue Vangelis' Chariots of Fire*

Ps tomorrow I will unashamedly post the first in the series of "before pictures" so don't eat breakfast before you read this blog, viewer disgust is guaranteed!

In my quest to ran the 6min mile, I ran today for the first time in ages. After going round the block, my muscles were burning and my heart was racing and I felt the same high I feel after sex, so I was in a good mood. "Sexy Birbal, here I come."

I actually felt so good that I made myself breakfast for the first time in three years - I'm not a big fan of having breakfast; something about sitting at the table all alone depresses me to bits (more on that later). After my first breakfast in years, I felt good and happy and emboldened by this new lease on life.

Then I puked my guts out! Ah-ha! There it was, the kicker! Now my bones ache, my muscles are doing this weird spasm thingy, and I feel like I just fell six feet under - and this is just day 1!

Shit!