Let me preface the subject at hand by saying that just last month I discovered I was capable of running a mile, which I did for only the second time in my life (I don't count the 13:45 mile from 7th grade, which was half walking). December marked the beginning of our regular gym excursions - "us" being myself and best buddy Keeley Moffitt - and things were off to a great start. That first mile astounded me, particularly because it was not nearly as hard as I'd imagined. Maybe it was the fact that the treadmill had me so well paced, but I did not feel overwhelmingly out of breath, or even unreasonably sore. Okay, so 12 minutes is not a fast mile, but it's a long distance for someone who is considered clinically obese. About a week later came the real shocker, when I ran not one, not one-and-a-half, but TWO MILES. I ran for 25 minutes that day, something I never thought I'd do, ever. Especially given my weight. The week after that, I upped it to 2.25 miles, even quickening my step for the last half mile or so. I even ran a 10 minute mile a couple weeks later just to prove I could do it. Go me.
So there's a little background for you, and I apologize if I have to keep going back to December, November, October, blah blah blah, but that is the price I am paying for not starting this blog 6 months ago. You, the reader, must pay that price, too. Anyhow, some things happened in the middle of last month and a necessary, but only temporary, hiatus had to occur. Our first trip back to the gym together was last week, and in about a month I had only worked out twice on my own. Thus, I had to get back into the rhythm.
Well, today I felt that it was time to test myself again, and what better occasion than cardio day? I set foot on the treadmill with the intention of jogging 30 minutes nonstop at a conversational pace, with a secondary goal of reaching 2.5 miles. At first, all seemed well; for the first mile, my breath was steady and my legs were decent, just a little ache in my lower back that numbed after a few minutes. Things were moving slowly, as they often do at 12 minute/mile pace, but I was confident I could go a lot further. As the second mile dragged on, I began to pant (just a little) and my muscles began to ache more and more. But all seemed well. Towards the end of mile 2, however, I felt my thighs straining with each step, about to buckle at any moment. I managed another quarter mile at a slightly faster pace before giving in and walking the remaining distance, knowing I had only done so to preserve my body for tomorrow's heavy lifts (also, it was really fucking exhausting). If I hadn't been recovering from yesterday's lifts, I probably could have gone all the way. The end result was 2.25 miles in 27 minutes, with a 5 minute cool down walk to round out the last quarter mile. I was reasonably pleased.
What followed was something to remind me that training for the Olympics is actually pretty hard (shocking, I know). My work out, and this was all Keeley's idea, consisted of sprint steps onto a 1 or 2-inch platform, 3x30 seconds; step-ups onto a 12-inch platform, 3x15 steps with 25 lb barbells; lunges across the room and back (20 feet?) with barbells, twice; and 4 or 5 different 30 lb kettle bell exercises, 2 sets of each. Now, it's been a while since I last had to do suicides or sprints or anything like that, but the first couple exercises here reminded me of the difference between jogging for a long time and moving as fast as you can for a short period. In other words, it was exhausting.
But it was a great workout overall, and I'm glad we're incorporating these kinds of things. I know you're dying to know more about what we're training for, so hopefully I'll get to that in the next couple days. We have much to discuss.
pun intended?
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