> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://dreaming-of-a-life-less-ordinary.ghost.io/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # Slogged?! 22 Minutes at the Edge of 51! - URL: https://dreaming-of-a-life-less-ordinary.ghost.io/slogged-22-minutes-at-the-edge-of-51/ - Published: 2026-11-03T15:46:55.000Z - Updated: 2026-11-03T15:46:55.000Z - Description: On the 365th day of my 50th year, or my 18,627th day on earth, I finally ran, or jogged, or most likely shuffled nonstop for 22 minutes. We will call it slogged?! What I know is that I went slower to run more! - Author: Billy b - Tags: 70.me, News On the 365th day of my 50th year, or my 18,627th day on earth, I finally ran, or jogged, or most likely shuffled nonstop for 22 minutes. We will call it slogged?! What I know is that I went slower to run more! I hate running. The idea of becoming a runner is one that never crossed my mind. Ok, maybe in my wildest fantasy of qualifying for the Kona World championships it popped up. The idea, like the fantasy, was something that was hidden away, that I didn’t talk about. What I did was walk. People in certain circles called me the Mountain that Walked. To my credit, I have 9 half marathon finishes and 9 triathlon finishes with walking. One 10K with a run/walk interval, but I was always going to walk the run portion of any triathlon. It defined who I was and how I was going to attack the Game of Triathlon. Then, after a series of talks with Coach Jenn, I committed to try running. Then, I said I could not run. I would need to do a run/walk interval. What is Coach thinking? She doesn’t understand that I can’t go from almost 50 years of avoiding running to just going out and running for five minutes, let alone forty-five, or even a half marathon. Nah, nah, this just would not work. Thursday was a running session I was proud of. I lowered my average time per mile; I ran for two-minute intervals and walked for five-minute intervals. I even had one woman on the trail tell me I was going fast. Which I knew I was not but appreciated the support. She and I struck up a conversation and will look for each other out on the trail to support each other in our health goals, but that is a different story. I felt like I was getting better. I was like, it's gonna be a slog, but maybe we can get there. Coach sent me a message saying we needed to set up a call. Crap, I thought. My session today wasn’t any good? I typed back a few times to talk and just said that running is really hard for me. She replied, and something in her response stuck in my mind, “we will get there it's just running slowwwwww is the key right now,” and I was “Trying too hard at times”. I flipped this over in my mind the rest of the day and on Friday. Part of me was like, how could I go any slower? The idea of slowing it down to run more took root in me. My next run was on the schedule for Halloween morning. On Halloween, I attended my Weight Watchers meeting, paying attention but also pondering slowing down to increase my running. I had brought my clothing with me, and I was going to change in the bathroom and head to the trail. I was going to go out there and run, jog, or slog just as slow as I could to see how far I could go. We would experiment with my coach’s words. After my ten-minute warm-up of walking and dynamic stretching, which included high knees, butt-kicks, some duck walking, and opening my hips, I was ready to do this. So I started. It didn’t feel like I was moving. I glanced at my watch, and I was at a 19-minute mile pace. I just kept slogging along. My watch buzzed, and I had been moving for two minutes. The walk interval kicked in, but I just kept slogging along. My breath was good, not even short or too heavy. I slogged on. The five - minute walk interval ended, and I had been slogging now for seven minutes. So I pushed on, and I glanced at my watch, and we were at a 17-minute mile pace. Smiling, I reminded myself to go slow. Steadied myself and slogged on. Another two-minute run interval buzzed my wrist, and now we were nine minutes in. My breath was good. I felt good, and so I kept slogging. Again, the watch signaled five more minutes had passed, prompting a turnaround. My mile pace had gone back to 19, but that was okay. Slow was the key. Continuing to run, jog, slog or whatever was the goal, and I kept going. Another buzz of my watch, and now I was at 16 minutes in, and I would not stop. I didn’t need to stop. My mile pace was in the 18’s and we were slogging now. I didn’t wheeze like an old goat. No, just slogged on, and 16 minutes became 18 minutes, and I was like four minutes to go. Just four minutes. I could do anything for four minutes. So I slogged on. Had a man and his dog not stood beside me at the twenty-two minute mark, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs. I didn’t want to scare the dog. So I just smiled and pumped my fist in celebration. I had just run for 22 minutes without stopping. I don’t think I had ever done that before in my life. Perhaps, I performed a “he-he” Michael Jackson style and a bad impersonation of the Thriller dance, though I will never say. I was jubilant! My confidence soared. I celebrated my 51st birthday with my family on Sunday. Confident and proud of who I was. I ate steak and cake in the afternoon and then drove back to Bloomington. I had a workout on the schedule. When I left Terre Haute, I had no intention of doing that workout. Steak and cake have a way of doing that to you. When I walked into my house and let Kona out the back, carried the luggage in and gave the girl her meds, I walked to the cabinet and got my water bottles out and filled them for my ride. I was doing the ride that was scheduled for that day. Just because I didn’t want to do it didn’t mean I would not do it. I did it anyway. That is a big change in behavior for me. The bigger surprise was on Monday, when I was looking forward to my twelve-minute run breezer. I couldn’t wait to get back out there and slog some more.