Sports: Is it Really Good for You?

Sometimes it just hits me: I get the irresistible urge to do something active. These urges usually come when I've been cooped up in the house for too long. And all of a sudden sports is high on the agenda again.

My history with trying all sorts of sports is long. Most of them didn't last long. Because I didn't enjoy them. The main reason was that some sports are done indoors, where oxygen is at a minimum and sweaty bodies at a maximum.

So outdoor sports is more my thing. After wielding a tennis racket, (and we all know where that ended) I went back to riding horses. They always were my first choice, and, it appears, my last.

I was taught to ride without a saddle and bridle, a long time ago. Purely with my legs and knees. And the horse's manes to hold on to, if necessary. This style has become my favorite. Just that darn big horse and me, on the beach, at dawn. Those were happy times, and I want them back.

So what happened? The first obstacle is that I live in a town. There are no horses here. The second problem is that the nearest beach is 45 minutes away. The third would be that keeping a horse is rather costly. The fourth is that they take an awful lot of work, and thus time. Time I just don't have right now.

But this morning I got it all over me again: thoughts like: "The body is a temple.........must look after it........fresh air is good.............and I don't want to look like an old prune in the future...........". All this went through my head while having a careful inspection of myself gazing back from the bathroom mirror. Of course, if I'd done that months ago, instead of spending all of 10 minutes in there without looking in that mirror, I might have been in better shape now.

So, off went the fancy clothes and on went the shorts, t-shirt and running shoes. A bit of a warming up in the garage and I headed out of the door, running.

I managed to jog down the road, all of the 200 meters. Embracing a lamppost and gasping for breath. When I finally started breathing somewhat normal again, I jogged towards the park. Where the same thing happened again; this time I held on to a fence. And of course this time I was caught in the act.

A guy, fit as a fiddle, muscles rippling, ran past me, smiling happily. "And what are you looking at?" I said angrily."Never seen anyone having a heart attack?" But I was shouting at his retreating back.

I despaired; I never thought it was going to be this difficult. But all of a sudden I remembered a "trick", from way back when I did jogging as well.

Yes, I started out running only 200 meters or so. The next day I managed 500, and the day after 1 km. And in the end I could run for miles, without catching my breath. It was all about building it up, and my poor body getting used to it.

No liposuction, no nasty surgical treatments for me, ever. Just exercise. And so cost-effective; it costs nothing to run.

And I will get there again, step by step. Because isn't my motto: Sheer determination will get you anywhere?