Young dude kicks my butt

Date	Place of exercise	Duration (minutes)	123 steps(s)	400 meters(s)	Start time
11* June	Orlyonok-Орлёнок	52	27.41	1:17.13	07:16

          First my fingers were tingling—not a terribly unpleasant feeling, but unusual. Then, the inside of my elbows began to ache, followed by aching in my neck. All of this accompanied by acute inability to breath, gasping for oxygen with great gulps of air that perpetually left me unsatisfied in my effort to reach equilibrium. This great strain began after the conclusion of the sprint.

          I tried to give myself a gentle push toward my goal of 75 seconds today by preceding my head-long dash with half a lap of walking. A failure. My time was more than two seconds on the wrong side of 1¼ minutes. As I ran around the third turn, I started to feel weak, like my muscles did not have the required energy to function. I remembered at that moment that I awoke with great pangs of hunger. I hate to seem like someone in search of excuses, but last night, I didn’t have enough time at the dinner table because my team was on the first bus going to the evening event.

 

          After breakfast, on the walk back to our lodgings, I found myself at the bottom of the 123 steps, alongside Valya, the 20-something male counselor. On a whim, I challenged him to a race to the top. I added quickly, “I’m an old man,” so he wouldn’t be afraid to race. If he was at all worried, it was displaced folly. He totally kicked my ass like I was pulling a wagon load of sand up the stairs.

          It was shocking. I was confronted with my total lack of quickness. When I run up the steps by myself, I think I am moving at a rapid clip. Three seconds into this race, however, Valya was already 4 or 5 steps ahead of me. When I run, I take two steps at a time. Every now and then, he jumped up three steps. In itself, of course, three steps is no big deal, but trying to imagine myself taking three steps was something like jumping from the ground to the top of the gold medal stand.

          During the race, I was like a little kid trying to wear his father’s shoes. At one point, I stumbled as I didn’t hit the step cleanly. Valya stopped, turned around and said, “Be careful.” As we reached the top, with two steps to go, he reached back and gave me his hand in a gesture designed to make the defeat somewhat less humiliating. What a nice guy!

          He soothed my injured pride as he said, “Most men of your age would not be able to do this.” Again...What a nice guy!

*I took a day off yesterday because I have blisters on both feet. I used yesterday to rest, plan future lessons, and give my feet a break.