Know thyself – either from Socrates or the Oracle at Delphi but probably even older than that. It is the root of all philosophy. Unless you know yourself, there is little to be gained from the outside world, or something like that. I know this about myself – I hate to exercise.

Oh, I love having done a CrossFit WOD. I’m not always quite that thrilled with doing one. And going? That’s just crazy talk there. I hate to interrupt my totally unimportant stuff to hightail it to the box. The reason I go first thing in the morning is because I don’t have time to talk myself out of it if I go when I’m still half asleep.

And now the problem. CrossFit Summerville doesn’t open until 9 AM on Saturday. If I weren’t plagued with insomnia and could sleep until something a bit later than predawn, this might be all right. I was out of bed at 5.07 this morning. I tried going back to bed and gave up before 5.30. I made coffee and checked Facebook and read my usual morning stuff and there was still hours to go before the gym opened.

I was losing steam and initiative and the will to work. I could actually feel the determination slip away as my brain began to give me excuses as to why it wasn’t necessary for me to go to the gym. The day was going to be half over before they even opened. Surely missing a workout doesn’t matter when you are this incompetent to start with. I mean, who really expects an old lady to be at the gym four days a week.

I do.

But I could tell it wasn’t going to happen. What should I do? If you have read this page before, you might have guessed that I hate to run. If you haven’t, allow me to let you in on a little secret. I hate to run. I would rather eat worms than run. The only thing that would make running feasible for me is if I were being chased by an irate wild animal. Then I might try to barter first. I really hate to run.

I got my running shoes on and headed out the door. This is an indication of how much I hate working out in the middle of the day. It made running look good.

I “ran” which for me is mostly walk from the house up to the main neighborhood road. I have measured this by my car odometer and by my bike odometer. They both agree it is 1.1 miles. But I had to get back home, too, so the distance covered was 2.2 miles.

I started out okay and could actually exchange some banter with Bob as I ran past his house. It was 77⁰ when I began and my phone said it was mostly cloudy. The sky said it was partly cloudy and that part wasn’t very big.

I would run at my pitiful pace until my heart rate was someplace between 157 and 165 and then stop. It wasn’t really a planned thing, that is just where I started having issues and I would look at my rate as I moved into my walking phase. What I thought was quite cruel as I walked along was how many cars drove past me as I walked and how few passed me as I ran. Then I realized I was walking far more than running and it accounted for the statistically accurate car to running ratio.

Since I wasn’t really working out, I left my glasses on. Since I was “running” I was dripping sweat into my eyes and then the glasses would steam up a little and it was miserable. I was hot and tired and then luckily for me, another car came up as I walked along, barely living. Bob mentioned I was going a bit slower now as he drove past. Yep.

I got back home in 36 minutes. Since I’m rotten at math, I got a calculator going on my phone to figure how fast/slow I was going. I was doing 16.36 minute miles. I think I can walk faster than that. In fact, I’m going to test that theory tomorrow. I am going to walk to the big corner and back and see how long it takes.

I don’t know if anyone has ever figured this out, but I hate to run. There is a meme that says a 12 minute mile is just as far as a 6 minute mile. I wonder how far a 16 minute mile is.