First Jogging Day, a.k.a. Why We Need To Stretch Before Exercising

(Note: Written three weeks ago. Apologies for the delayed post. I'll be sharing some other pieces I wrote previously tomorrow or the day after.)

The sound of a theme song from a '70s Japanese robot show kept playing as my cell phone's alarm clock, rousing me from sleep seven hours earlier than usual. Resisting the temptation to stay in bed, I pushed myself to wake up. After washing my face and performing my morning routine, I faced the challenge of finding suitable workout attire. Being someone who isn't particularly athletic, my closet lacked proper exercise clothing. I settled on a plain black t-shirt (to hide any sweat stains), denim shorts (to add a little extra weight and intensity to my supposed workout), and comfortable Crocs (because, well, they're comfortable!).

Stepping outside, I took in the refreshing, early morning air, which invigorated me and reminded me of what I wanted my life to be. Determined, I made my way to the nearest jogging spot, a memorial park. While it may have seemed slightly eerie, it was still preferable to the bustling highway where enormous trucks hurriedly traveled, heading to their destinations at this hour. My goal was to exercise and prolong my average lifespan, not the other way around.

Arriving at the park, I noticed that many joggers were already present, despite the darkness. Fortunately, the dim lighting worked in my favor. I didn't want these experienced individuals to witness me struggling for breath while jogging, which I was almost certain would happen.

I started with a few minutes of walking, preparing myself for the run. When the moment felt right, I began running. However, after a mere ten meters, I had to stop to catch my breath. I switched back to walking, only to attempt jogging again, this time managing eight meters. It was at this point that I realized jogging felt like hell, so I opted to continue walking. I was nearly halfway through my first lap when I convinced myself to call it a day, considering I had already worked up a good sweat. Perhaps I had burned a couple hundred calories by then. Additionally, the mausoleums in the park didn't make for a pleasant sight in the dark. I strolled back home, feeling a sense of triumph in my heart, or rather, palpitations.

On my way back, I encountered a group of joggers who had just arrived and were engaged in semi-elaborate body movements that an inexperienced jogger or athlete like myself wouldn't recognize as stretching exercises. I scoffed silently, thinking how foolish they were wasting their time. Little did I know how wrong I was.

Once I returned home, I crawled back into bed. However, that afternoon, I found myself unable to get up. My legs were incredibly sore, and I struggled to walk properly for the next four days. It was quite the experience, one that didn't exactly foster a love for exercise.