Running 40 yard dashes
It was freaking 90 degrees over the summer weekend and I hardly did anything productive at all. You see my whole family is out of town. My daughter went on a trip with her boyfriend's family and my wife and son were overseas visiting my wife's family. What did I do?
I pretty much was a couch potato, but one damn thing I did do was head down to the ball field. Yes, I dragged my fat body off the couch and hopped in my messy blue Jeep. There I was, all my glorious fat self at a real football field. This was my time to actually see if being around a real football field might inspire me to do something healthy.
It did in a very weird way. I walked around the field for 45 minutes before I thought I should get on that grid iron and actually sprint 40 yards. Yes, I felt a long forgotten urge to actually run and sprint. I could almost hear the long forgotten coaches whistles of my youth. How hard could it be?
Well, considering I am 46, and have about 100 pounds to loose, it was tough as hell. I got on the goal line and even did a "down-set-hut" and ran for a 40 yards. Although to most passerby's it might look like walking.
I did it though. I ran about 6 or 7 of those dashes I think. I got those lungs going. I got those legs pumping. Alas, I thought I should start running in place, hit the two man sled, run through tires. I was really wondering if maybe I am on to something.
Well, I might be. I might even try to get a real football coach to put me back through the drills we used to do as a kid. Maybe. I only say that I "maybe" might do that because I still have finished that last 40 yard dash.