The podcast/music dilemma

It’s that time of year again when the duck and I reminisce about our running slow jogging progress. Or shall we call it “regress” this time? “Running for ten hours” would be the logical continuation of our previous post titles. But the duck and I like to stay truthful, and there is no way we will ever deliberately run for ten hours (I’m not even sure zombies would get us there). We did unexpectedly pass the one-hour mark a few weeks ago, though.* However, this was a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence in an otherwise slow year. I want to blame it on my post-Covid energy decline that over 90% of our jogs contained walking breaks (the duck slowed down in solidarity). But one weird occurrence clearly contradicts that. It concerns the duck and my jogging entertainment (because the outside alone isn’t entertaining enough for us to keep jogging).

This is where the uncharacteristic title of today’s post and the following question come in:

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(A boring post about) yoga

The duck told me “after all those recent mentions of yoga” to “just dedicate a whole post to it already to get it out of your system” (whatever that’s supposed to mean). So, this one’s entirely on the duck!

I’ve remarked that, in addition to accidental outside photography yoga, I had been doing regular simple at-home (pretend-)yoga for more than two years. It’s also no secret that I used to have an unfounded aversion to “slow exercise” (or any kind of unnecessary exercise, really) that got amplified by the suggestion I do yoga, simply because it’s feminine. Before I get into another rant about figurative pigeonholes, here’s how I went from “yoga, schmoga” to “but first… let me do some yoga!” (don’t cue the house music, please):

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Running for ten minutes

The observant reader might have noticed that the title of today’s blog post looks familiar. That’s because last year, I declared that, in a joint effort with the duck, I would attempt to extend my running stamina beyond the approximate ten seconds it was at. Given our unsuccessful history with running, the duck and I are surprised to admit that, about a year later, we’re still pretend-running on a somewhat regular basis. Although our fatalistic 2021 prediction didn’t come true, we are still not 100% convinced that we will not have to outrun zombies sometime in the future (though running from zombies is not what today’s post is about). For now, we can say that we’ve caught a few buses after 30-second sprints without feeling nauseous, which the duck and I consider a great success.10 minute run duckBut, since we are inherently lazy, getting to those rewarding bus sprints wasn’t always smooth sailing: Continue reading

Running for ten seconds

That’s about the extent of my stamina. When the duck and I lived in Tokyo, our window looked out onto a trail. Sometimes, when – chocolate in hand – we observed the outside world, we saw super motivated joggers run by, some of them twice our combined age: a regular reminder of how unfit we were. “Running for ten seconds” was, in fact, supposed to be the title of a blog post about how we finally took up running so that no runner would ever be able to mock us again – by simply running past our lazy tail feathers. Of course, the titular ten-second run would never happen (not while we were living in Tokyo, anyway) even though, a few weeks before the duck and I set off on our Japan adventure, we visited our inspirational friend who used to go running every morning. She told us that she loved Haruki Murakami’s memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running and recommended we read it, too.pre run duck 3+ years later, we finally did. And, weirdly, after a life of feeling sick for hours after having had to run for more than ten seconds, reading about the experiences of someone (granted, one who never shared our specific lack-of-running-stamina-problem) who started running regularly as an adult made the duck and me finally attempt to properly take up the practice ourselves (if only we’d read this earlier):

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