run for your life

If these shoes could speak, they'd be saying, "Don't just do it."

First, the good news. I didn't keel over and die after jogging 100m.

Now for the not so good news.

I ran at a very slow pace. My doggie, who usually breaks into a gallop, was forced to merely trot next to me.

I set a very low target of 20 minutes, which was what I seem to recall experts recommending thrice a week, not that I ever paid any real attention to fitness articles.

After 10 minutes, I was on the verge of collapse. I wasn't breathless or tired, I was faint and light-headed.

Fearing an imminent heart attack, I sat on the curb with my chest heaving, while my oblivious doggie ran around in a circle with the radius the length of his leash and marked every tree in it.

That was not the worst. I then felt like vomitting, even though I had not eaten anything the whole morning -- which on hindsight might not have been such a good idea -- and started dry heaving.

Strangely, I felt right as rain after that and could even take my doggie to his fave park to run around. But I'm too demoralised by my inability to run even 500m that that may be the last time I attempt to jog.

Healthy lifestyle? Bah!