We've been trying to stick with the training regimen as proscribed, but sometimes life gets in the way and we end up making up for lost time, and that might be a problem. Wifey was off Monday and ended up grouting the pantry floor. This made her knees hurt like hell so it was understandable she wanted to recoup before running 3 miles on them. I wasn't going to complain since I was still feeling the 4-miler from last Saturday. One more day of rest could only be a good thing, right?
So we switched days and ran on Tuesday instead. Back to the old treadmill for 3 miles but this time new pains emerged. Knees and back, which have never given me any trouble in my entire life, began to throb and moan silently, but I toughed it out and got the 3 miles in thankfully. Staci was still at her pace and finished a few minutes after me. Even she was complaining of knee and back aches which I told her was from her pantry project. We decided we'd do our cross training on Wednesday and then our 4 mile run on Thursday, thus being caught up and primed for our Saturday group run.
Well, Wednesday came and went and it was I that was in no mood to go cross train since my knees and back were still acting up. Even the Xtend was not helping much. This was getting ridiculous. Our age was not going to allow us to train properly because our bodies were in a constant state of repair? Ok, no worries, we'll get a day of rest before going for it on Thursday for a complete 4 mile run. Now it said it was to be an easy four miles. Don't know who thought running four miles is supposed to be EASY! Both of us were resigned to the fact that we'd attempt this without reservation and get back on track.
No one needs to tell anybody that after a long hard day at work, relaxing is the first thing to come to mind when one gets home. It was a rainy Thursday evening, too damp and dark to try and run outside, which was the original plan. So we donned our workout attire in true gym-rat fashion and headed to the gym to hit the track since the treadmill and I are not on speaking terms. Our route takes us upstairs in this monstrosity of a gym to a bank of innumerable day lockers spread out throughout the place. We placed our jackets and the like in a couple, locked them up with the handy-dandy code lock system that reminds me of being in Vegas with the room safes, and headed over to the indoor track to stretch. After ensuring my calves were still in no pain, I lurched myself into the middle lane to get the 35 or so laps over with as fast as possible. Wifey started at a walk to limber up but I thought I'd try to will the stiffness out of my hips and back by jogging at an easy pace.
I must say our training has gotten our stamina up; I wasn't even breathing hard until the fourth lap. I didn't even start sweating until the eighth. And then it happened....again! I was rounding the turn going outside of a slower runner then heading down the back-stretch when that all too familiar 'boing' feeling struck my left calf again in the exact same place that I thought I'd healed just a few weeks before. I wasn't going fast or anything, just at the same comfortable pace I've been doing for weeks now. Immediately I pulled up and rubbed the spot hard in hopes it was just a cramp. No such luck. I tried to work it out by running a few more feet; it only tightened up more. Wifey came up behind me and I told her my grim news. Same spot, same pain. I told her to keep going while I tried to walk through it in hopes of getting back to a jog. But with each step I took, the muscle just tightened up more and more, to the point that I was limping more pronounced with each step. ARGH!!!!!
Well, that was that. I gimped off the track in disgust and headed to a bike machine to see if that would work since I was sweating freely now and I wanted to at least make this gym trip worthwhile and try and burn a few more gut calories. I did a 30 minute, 7.5 mile stint on a stationary bike while Staci followed me over to a treadmill soon after to finish her run since the track was killing her knees. At least she got her miles in. I, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. The bike kept my sweat going but my breathing wasn't labored in the least and I felt cheated that I hadn't worked out as I thought this trip was going to produce. All my thoughts soon turned to what I needed to do to repair this pain--rest, ice, compression and elevation. Back to the couch I go, ice bag on my calf raised above the heart, wifey serving me turkey burrito while my mood sunk.
Long and the short of it looks like I'll be missing the run tomorrow morning and perhaps Monday as well. I HAVE to get this thing healed. My worst fear is to have this happen in the middle of the 10K and have to limp for miles to the finish, or even worse, quit. If that happens, I'm doomed! If I can't even run, what's left to try and get rid of this gut? Diets bore me after awhile. Yoga/Pilates are too feminine. Sports are what I've done and enjoyed so I guess that leaves only swimming. With my luck I'll break a heal doing a flip-turn or a wrist touching the wall! I'm running out of options here people. Suggestions, ANY suggestion is welcome at this point.
Man I need a drink!
Friday, February 25, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
And miles to go before I sleep!
Week 5
This past Saturday broke warm and sunny albeit a bit windy, but easily the best morning so far for these group runs. This time is was a 4-miler up Monument Avenue to the Boulevard and back. I was feeling the best I had felt physically for this since this endeavor began. No calf pain, no swimming soreness, nada. It was funny to see the patrons of the Jefferson looking out their $500/night bedroom windows to see 100 or so people screaming in unison to the cadence of our warm-ups. I actually started dead last from the pack when we set out since I needed to help a fellow iPod user figure out how to turn on her Rhapsody music library. I failed.
As always, I had to navigate my way through the morass of people to find a spot where I could settle into my pace. This took until I was almost to Stuart Circle, then the wind and fun really began! There is an ever so slight uphill grade going out toward the Boulevard. Add a nice headwind to the mix and it took no time for intense labor-like pains to develop. I fought the urge to stop maybe a dozen times, but maintained my plodding concentrating intensely on my iPod music and watching the ground to prevent any missteps. I only had to stop twice for traffic, much to my chagrin. My legs had memorized their own momentum and when stopping I had this weird sense that I was still moving. That was ever so odd! At least I had the "downhill" portion of the run to look forward to....
So yes, I did the whole 4 miles without stopping to walk. I did get passed by a few women who seem to pace themselves better than I but I was still near the front of the group by the time I finished. What was really surprising was that it was just 9 o'clock which meant I did the whole run in like 45 minutes! That's around 11 minutes per mile which is a milestone in this ongoing saga. About 5 minutes later our 20-something goomah showed up and then wifey five minutes after her. Meanwhile I was sipping on water since I hadn't the spit in my mouth to actually gulp it. I gargled a few mouthfuls to get some moisture back in my mouth while waiting and walked around in circles, not wanting to sit for fear of being stuck in that position forever. Great news was that my calf had no pain at all rather, my hips were feeling especially used and abused. Still, I'll take arthritic hips any day over snapped sinews.
Looks like the training regimen is doing it's job. Our stamina is definitely improving, our weight is beginning to drop and our sleeps are totally restful. I think this week has us training for 3.5 miles today and Wednesday with another four mile run next Saturday. This shouldn't pose any real danger I would think. If I did it once, I can do it again, right? That is if the ol' bod allows it. I'm hoping we can actual run outside so long as the weather and daylight cooperate. Treadmills are already my nemesis and I'd much rather run somewhere with a view. I'll update ya later this week with how that goes by swim cross-training day. Egads, I'm starting to sound like a runner! Oh the horrors!
This past Saturday broke warm and sunny albeit a bit windy, but easily the best morning so far for these group runs. This time is was a 4-miler up Monument Avenue to the Boulevard and back. I was feeling the best I had felt physically for this since this endeavor began. No calf pain, no swimming soreness, nada. It was funny to see the patrons of the Jefferson looking out their $500/night bedroom windows to see 100 or so people screaming in unison to the cadence of our warm-ups. I actually started dead last from the pack when we set out since I needed to help a fellow iPod user figure out how to turn on her Rhapsody music library. I failed.
As always, I had to navigate my way through the morass of people to find a spot where I could settle into my pace. This took until I was almost to Stuart Circle, then the wind and fun really began! There is an ever so slight uphill grade going out toward the Boulevard. Add a nice headwind to the mix and it took no time for intense labor-like pains to develop. I fought the urge to stop maybe a dozen times, but maintained my plodding concentrating intensely on my iPod music and watching the ground to prevent any missteps. I only had to stop twice for traffic, much to my chagrin. My legs had memorized their own momentum and when stopping I had this weird sense that I was still moving. That was ever so odd! At least I had the "downhill" portion of the run to look forward to....
So yes, I did the whole 4 miles without stopping to walk. I did get passed by a few women who seem to pace themselves better than I but I was still near the front of the group by the time I finished. What was really surprising was that it was just 9 o'clock which meant I did the whole run in like 45 minutes! That's around 11 minutes per mile which is a milestone in this ongoing saga. About 5 minutes later our 20-something goomah showed up and then wifey five minutes after her. Meanwhile I was sipping on water since I hadn't the spit in my mouth to actually gulp it. I gargled a few mouthfuls to get some moisture back in my mouth while waiting and walked around in circles, not wanting to sit for fear of being stuck in that position forever. Great news was that my calf had no pain at all rather, my hips were feeling especially used and abused. Still, I'll take arthritic hips any day over snapped sinews.
Looks like the training regimen is doing it's job. Our stamina is definitely improving, our weight is beginning to drop and our sleeps are totally restful. I think this week has us training for 3.5 miles today and Wednesday with another four mile run next Saturday. This shouldn't pose any real danger I would think. If I did it once, I can do it again, right? That is if the ol' bod allows it. I'm hoping we can actual run outside so long as the weather and daylight cooperate. Treadmills are already my nemesis and I'd much rather run somewhere with a view. I'll update ya later this week with how that goes by swim cross-training day. Egads, I'm starting to sound like a runner! Oh the horrors!
Friday, February 18, 2011
Keep on the Sunny Side of Life
It'd been four days since my last attempt at any physical activity in order to allow for some healing to my left calf/Achilles that is not allowed to snap. We're out of Xtend until the next shipment arrives so I did the RICE advise and laid low until Wednesday. I did have pseudo-excuses: Monday was Valentines Day so I took wifey to TJ's at the Jefferson for a nice dinner. Tuesday I had my uncles half-court tickets for the VCU-George Mason basketball game; what a waste of time THAT turned out to be! So Wednesday I was driving home from work admiring the sunset as I crossed the Lee Bridge overlooking the James Rivah and thought I should enjoy the warming weather and try a jog before dark to see whether or not my four days of R&R was helping out anything. Wifey had bought me a new warm-up jacket to repel dog hair attraction and some matching shorts for V-Day so I thought I'd give it a whirl and take a tour around the neighborhood that is usually reserved for our dog-walking exploits.
Yes, I did stretch a LOT beforehand and once across Semmes Avenue and the evening rush-hour traffic I proceeded to test the calf with a nice easy jog. This route had me running down 30th Street towards the river then turning down Riverside Drive and heading into Forest Hill Park where bike trails are aplenty. Reedy Creek runs through Woodland Heights, down into a rocky gorge that would have been my playground haven had I been living in Richmond when I was ten, into Forest Hill Park Lake (or pond) which is dammed with an overflow, then heads toward the James. There's a nice wide path next to this part of the creek surrounded by woods which has you wondering if you are really in the middle of a city since you can't hear anything but running water and chirping birds. The Lake has a path around its circumference with trails and paths pealing off at all sorts of intervals. This 105-acre site was once a training ground for the Virginia 7th Regiment during the Civil War and later the end of the line for the Richmond Trolley. Of course this was total country back in those days when Holden Rhhodes owned the property way back when. Reminds me of Europe for some reason with its stone pathways and Victorian era ambiance.
Enough of the history lesson though. This route is hilly. What better to test my lack of endurance and pain threshold then by going up and down these hills, eh? It's weird but once your body gets used to running your breathing and sweating seem to hit autopilot and it's barley noticeable other than the rhythmic pounding of my footsteps. I was actually surprised my stamina hadn't suffered to much from the layoff. I was able to get over the river and through the woods, so to speak, until I had to hump it up a majorly steep hill that took me to the top of the park next to a large picnic area. Even having to walk up this steep grade had me huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf. Once back to level ground I resumed my jog following the black path that winded me through the upper echelons of the park, back down toward Semmes and homeward bound. I tried to measure the mileage with Google maps but it only measures roads, so we had to guesstimate, figuring around two miles based on how long it took me from leaving to getting back home. Best part was I was only winded from the run but the rest of me felt ok. No pain in my calf or legs although my lower back was a bit sore from the downhill pounding it wasn't used to. I was sweaty but not water-logged. I guess the falling temperatures as I beat dusk home had something to do with that.
Now Staci had made up her missed run last Monday by running 3 miles at the gym on Tuesday when I was at the basketball game. So we were out of sync with our proscribed training regimen. We got back on track last night when I did my cross-training swimming of 25 laps while she doggedly pursued 3.5 miles on the treadmill. I think I got the better of the deal. The pool was a tad more crowded (I had to share a lap lane) but the reward when finishing my swim was again playing in the whirlpool and sitting in a 110 degree hot tub allowing my muscles to atrophy to the point of soup. I also pointed my calves right on the jets thus getting a massage effect to loosen them up even more.
Now this is not to say I have returned to my pre-twenties swimming form. FAR from it. I do not do 25 laps in a row without stopping. Usually I do 100 meters (4 laps) at a time, rest for 30 seconds, then do another 100. I try to a lap of each stroke though butterfly is a bitch trying to get my fat ass out of the water so my arms will swing properly. Of course there is always some 'professional' swimmers effortlessly plowing through 200 individual medleys at quarter speed, which, once upon a time, I could do, too. But 25+ years later, not so much! At least my arms didn't stiffen up so fast this time. I was able to get through the swim pretty easily. Mostly I was just trying to keep my stamina building. I'm not trying to train for the next Olympics or anything.
After my uber-relaxing hot tub soak I dressed and found the wife plugging along a few laps from her 3.5 mile jaunt. Surprisingly I was more tired than I would have thought. I was still sweating a bit as I waited. She eventually finished, a sweaty mess that is usually reserved only for me. Dinner was later than normal since we didn't get home until after 8. No worries, we weren't really that hungry. Bed was calling to us both ever so sweetly and I was dreaming within moments of my head hitting the pillow.
Up next is the daunting task of doing FOUR miles this Saturday morning. We're taking a stroll up and down Monument Avenue all the way to the Boulevard and back. This should be interesting. The weather is supposed to be great (hopefully no wind this time!). I'm gonna make a point to run in the grass to cushion the impact as much as possible. I just hope the dog-walkers picked up! No need ruining my shoes with that after I just finished having them dry out from the monsoon we had to run through the other week. I'd like them to look semi-fresh when we do the 10K for real in six weeks!
Yes, I did stretch a LOT beforehand and once across Semmes Avenue and the evening rush-hour traffic I proceeded to test the calf with a nice easy jog. This route had me running down 30th Street towards the river then turning down Riverside Drive and heading into Forest Hill Park where bike trails are aplenty. Reedy Creek runs through Woodland Heights, down into a rocky gorge that would have been my playground haven had I been living in Richmond when I was ten, into Forest Hill Park Lake (or pond) which is dammed with an overflow, then heads toward the James. There's a nice wide path next to this part of the creek surrounded by woods which has you wondering if you are really in the middle of a city since you can't hear anything but running water and chirping birds. The Lake has a path around its circumference with trails and paths pealing off at all sorts of intervals. This 105-acre site was once a training ground for the Virginia 7th Regiment during the Civil War and later the end of the line for the Richmond Trolley. Of course this was total country back in those days when Holden Rhhodes owned the property way back when. Reminds me of Europe for some reason with its stone pathways and Victorian era ambiance.
Enough of the history lesson though. This route is hilly. What better to test my lack of endurance and pain threshold then by going up and down these hills, eh? It's weird but once your body gets used to running your breathing and sweating seem to hit autopilot and it's barley noticeable other than the rhythmic pounding of my footsteps. I was actually surprised my stamina hadn't suffered to much from the layoff. I was able to get over the river and through the woods, so to speak, until I had to hump it up a majorly steep hill that took me to the top of the park next to a large picnic area. Even having to walk up this steep grade had me huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf. Once back to level ground I resumed my jog following the black path that winded me through the upper echelons of the park, back down toward Semmes and homeward bound. I tried to measure the mileage with Google maps but it only measures roads, so we had to guesstimate, figuring around two miles based on how long it took me from leaving to getting back home. Best part was I was only winded from the run but the rest of me felt ok. No pain in my calf or legs although my lower back was a bit sore from the downhill pounding it wasn't used to. I was sweaty but not water-logged. I guess the falling temperatures as I beat dusk home had something to do with that.
Now Staci had made up her missed run last Monday by running 3 miles at the gym on Tuesday when I was at the basketball game. So we were out of sync with our proscribed training regimen. We got back on track last night when I did my cross-training swimming of 25 laps while she doggedly pursued 3.5 miles on the treadmill. I think I got the better of the deal. The pool was a tad more crowded (I had to share a lap lane) but the reward when finishing my swim was again playing in the whirlpool and sitting in a 110 degree hot tub allowing my muscles to atrophy to the point of soup. I also pointed my calves right on the jets thus getting a massage effect to loosen them up even more.
Now this is not to say I have returned to my pre-twenties swimming form. FAR from it. I do not do 25 laps in a row without stopping. Usually I do 100 meters (4 laps) at a time, rest for 30 seconds, then do another 100. I try to a lap of each stroke though butterfly is a bitch trying to get my fat ass out of the water so my arms will swing properly. Of course there is always some 'professional' swimmers effortlessly plowing through 200 individual medleys at quarter speed, which, once upon a time, I could do, too. But 25+ years later, not so much! At least my arms didn't stiffen up so fast this time. I was able to get through the swim pretty easily. Mostly I was just trying to keep my stamina building. I'm not trying to train for the next Olympics or anything.
After my uber-relaxing hot tub soak I dressed and found the wife plugging along a few laps from her 3.5 mile jaunt. Surprisingly I was more tired than I would have thought. I was still sweating a bit as I waited. She eventually finished, a sweaty mess that is usually reserved only for me. Dinner was later than normal since we didn't get home until after 8. No worries, we weren't really that hungry. Bed was calling to us both ever so sweetly and I was dreaming within moments of my head hitting the pillow.
Up next is the daunting task of doing FOUR miles this Saturday morning. We're taking a stroll up and down Monument Avenue all the way to the Boulevard and back. This should be interesting. The weather is supposed to be great (hopefully no wind this time!). I'm gonna make a point to run in the grass to cushion the impact as much as possible. I just hope the dog-walkers picked up! No need ruining my shoes with that after I just finished having them dry out from the monsoon we had to run through the other week. I'd like them to look semi-fresh when we do the 10K for real in six weeks!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Depression now sets in
Week 4
Last Saturday dawned sunny and a bit milder, although windy and still cold. But it is winter after all so I should be used to this by now. I was hoping the two days of rest would heal my left calf/Achilles enough so that I could make the 3 mile loop up Cary Street and back down Main but, alas, as soon as we warmed-up with jumping jacks I knew that familiar twinge would be my undoing. I got the old iPod going and found my rhythm around the morass as we headed into a pretty stiff headwind. My hands needed gloves and my calf needed more rest, but I am stubborn and pushed through the dull ache determined to make a good showing. Running into the wind is tiring. This was not as easy as last week and the slight uphill grade for the outward portion of the loop had my breathing labored fairly quickly. At least the homeward bound portion was slightly downhill so I had hopes that I'd get this run in regardless of the increasing agony.
Well, probably with a half-mile to go I knew I was done-for. My iPod froze in the middle of a song and I stopped to walk to try and bang it into starting again. No such luck. So I stuffed the earphones in my pocket and started back up. Bad idea. Within 100 feet of doing so I felt the nagging twinge grow from an annoyance to a full blown OUCH! I guess my calf thought I was done. Problem was I was still a ways away from the finish, let alone my car. My limp grew more and more pronounced as I hobbled down the brick sidewalk. Everyone ended up passing me, some slowing to find out if I was ok. A trainer asked about me and I related my past Achilles injury and how this felt like what my repaired tendon once felt like just before popping. I simply cannot afford to have this one tear, too.
So in the end and after many respites along the way to rest my aching hips that had to compensate for my gimpy leg, I hobbled up the hill back to the Jefferson parking lot, past the water cooler and t-shirt stand and kept what little momentum I had straight to the car leaving my wife and two twenty-something friends wondering how bad off I really was. I was never so happy to get to my car so I could finally sit down and never so depressed that my body had failed me in the simplest of tasks. I suppose my legs just aren't supposed to support the gargantuan I have become.
I followed wifey's advice and RICE: rest, ice, compression and elevation. This was only after I curled up in a sweaty ball and tried to sleep away my sadness. When I awoke Staci got me situated on the couch before heading out to get her hair done. After having my leg suffer some frostbite I took a shower and returned to my doldrums on the couch. Deep down I knew this was an inevitability since last Wednesday's snafu on the treadmill and my mood was telling leading up to Saturday's run. I was definitely worried about a potential repeat involving a severed Achilles so, as all males do, I masked my fear with an ease-to-anger and a short temper. Of course I don't consciously realize this subconscious survival tactic but everyone else around me did. As all good wives do, she continuously asked me what was wrong and was obviously validated afterward. Men are such hard-heads. Sunday we took the dogs for a long walk in the park to enjoy the 60 degree weather and my legs and hips were still feeling it for having to compensate for my calf. I was whipped by the time we got home.
So now I'm at a crossroads. I obviously need to get this leg checked out and do something other than the training runs until I can log the miles without my calf shredding. Swimming seems like an obvious choice. Perhaps doing 30 minute to hour workouts in the pool will keep my stamina growing and maybe even help me shed some of this behemoth drinking gut. I'm running out of ideas to try and get back to a normal weight. Diets work at first but then get boring. Staci cooks to well to forever be on a damn diet! Weight lifting bores me without someone else to do it with. I seem to hurt myself running. I must me a complete doofus for that to happen! I'm getting too aged to play any sports I like obviously now that I can't even do the simplest thing like run!
Perhaps I am just destined to be a once-upon-a-time athlete. That is too depressing even to think of, let alone write about.
Last Saturday dawned sunny and a bit milder, although windy and still cold. But it is winter after all so I should be used to this by now. I was hoping the two days of rest would heal my left calf/Achilles enough so that I could make the 3 mile loop up Cary Street and back down Main but, alas, as soon as we warmed-up with jumping jacks I knew that familiar twinge would be my undoing. I got the old iPod going and found my rhythm around the morass as we headed into a pretty stiff headwind. My hands needed gloves and my calf needed more rest, but I am stubborn and pushed through the dull ache determined to make a good showing. Running into the wind is tiring. This was not as easy as last week and the slight uphill grade for the outward portion of the loop had my breathing labored fairly quickly. At least the homeward bound portion was slightly downhill so I had hopes that I'd get this run in regardless of the increasing agony.
Well, probably with a half-mile to go I knew I was done-for. My iPod froze in the middle of a song and I stopped to walk to try and bang it into starting again. No such luck. So I stuffed the earphones in my pocket and started back up. Bad idea. Within 100 feet of doing so I felt the nagging twinge grow from an annoyance to a full blown OUCH! I guess my calf thought I was done. Problem was I was still a ways away from the finish, let alone my car. My limp grew more and more pronounced as I hobbled down the brick sidewalk. Everyone ended up passing me, some slowing to find out if I was ok. A trainer asked about me and I related my past Achilles injury and how this felt like what my repaired tendon once felt like just before popping. I simply cannot afford to have this one tear, too.
So in the end and after many respites along the way to rest my aching hips that had to compensate for my gimpy leg, I hobbled up the hill back to the Jefferson parking lot, past the water cooler and t-shirt stand and kept what little momentum I had straight to the car leaving my wife and two twenty-something friends wondering how bad off I really was. I was never so happy to get to my car so I could finally sit down and never so depressed that my body had failed me in the simplest of tasks. I suppose my legs just aren't supposed to support the gargantuan I have become.
I followed wifey's advice and RICE: rest, ice, compression and elevation. This was only after I curled up in a sweaty ball and tried to sleep away my sadness. When I awoke Staci got me situated on the couch before heading out to get her hair done. After having my leg suffer some frostbite I took a shower and returned to my doldrums on the couch. Deep down I knew this was an inevitability since last Wednesday's snafu on the treadmill and my mood was telling leading up to Saturday's run. I was definitely worried about a potential repeat involving a severed Achilles so, as all males do, I masked my fear with an ease-to-anger and a short temper. Of course I don't consciously realize this subconscious survival tactic but everyone else around me did. As all good wives do, she continuously asked me what was wrong and was obviously validated afterward. Men are such hard-heads. Sunday we took the dogs for a long walk in the park to enjoy the 60 degree weather and my legs and hips were still feeling it for having to compensate for my calf. I was whipped by the time we got home.
So now I'm at a crossroads. I obviously need to get this leg checked out and do something other than the training runs until I can log the miles without my calf shredding. Swimming seems like an obvious choice. Perhaps doing 30 minute to hour workouts in the pool will keep my stamina growing and maybe even help me shed some of this behemoth drinking gut. I'm running out of ideas to try and get back to a normal weight. Diets work at first but then get boring. Staci cooks to well to forever be on a damn diet! Weight lifting bores me without someone else to do it with. I seem to hurt myself running. I must me a complete doofus for that to happen! I'm getting too aged to play any sports I like obviously now that I can't even do the simplest thing like run!
Perhaps I am just destined to be a once-upon-a-time athlete. That is too depressing even to think of, let alone write about.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Snap, Crackle, Pop!
One would think that after almost 3 weeks into this training regimen the ol' bod would begin getting used to the usage of previously neglected body parts. Well I'm here to tell you they're not! It's almost comical that less than 100 feet from the finish line of my 2.5 mile treadmill run last night my left calf seized, shooting all too familiar pain signals that my Achilles tendon was ready to snap at any second. Such a novice I am at treadmill running that trying to hop on one foot while trying to stop the darn thing was a sight to behold I'm sure. Thankfully, I was able to slow the thing down so I could walk the last few yards thereby reaching the finish whilst dripping wet in my too short yellow Lycra Underarmour shirt and circa 1980's Adidas gym shorts.
For those of you that have never suffered a torn Achilles tendon injury I can tell you they are no fun. Imagine having the sudden sensation of someone hauling off and cracking the back of your lower leg with a baseball bat. One minute you're standing, the next you are looking around behind you looking for the ass that ran into the back of you, but lo and behold there's nobody there! Then the pain hits you in a delayed reaction with such a surge you are wishing upon all the stars above you could turn back time to 10 seconds ago. First you stand up to see if your leg is broken or if you just have a sever cramp you can walk off. Then you come to find out your foot doesn't move. You can stand but you ain't walking. You then slowly realize something is definitely wrong and that sickening feeling of dread, worry and faintness starts to overcome you. Long story short, you get to make an appointment for outpatient surgery, put your leg in a cast for 4-6 weeks, then a walking boot for another month before you get to do painful stretching exercises for the next six to nine months. The only good news about the whole event is that now you have a bionic tendon that will never rip again.
Such was my mind-set I had immediately upon the pain hitting me last night. Once I was able to limp off the treadmill and wipe it down I gimped around the gym trying to shake it off as wifey finished up her run. I sat in my sweat watching the indoor soccer junkies while rubbing my calf trying to pinpoint the pain center. Bingo! It was high up the tendon, near the base of my calf, right where I had felt tightness years before playing volleyball before my right one snapped back in 2007. I did some pseudo-deep tissue massage trying to relieve the tension until Staci showed up with a look of genuine concern. I'm sure she doesn't want a repeat of me needing to be waited on for a month or more, having to help me up and down stairs, into the bath, putting on my socks--you know, basically being an invalid. I gingerly dressed back into my warm-up pants and fleece jacket then gimped my way down the stairs ever slowly slowly and out into the cold night air. How I wished I had parked the car closer!
Ice, aspirin and Xtend were applied and downed when I got us home. Staci made some grilled chicken wraps for dinner (very yummy and light) then we watched The Expendables. What a bunch of past action heroes all on the screen at the same time! It was surprising to see so many, but the movie was just alright. Nothing great. Meanwhile, I tried not to sulk too much about being injured when I have another 3 mile run looming in a few days. I gotta start getting my stamina up which is what I was attempting to do last night. I walked for the first quarter lap to warm up (most likely not NEARLY enough) then upped the speed to 5 to 5.3. My goal was to try and get the miles in under 12 minutes. For the longest time I was just cruising. No pain, no labored breathing, just a nice comfortable rhythm as I watched ESPN news and listened to my iPod. I did take a short break back down to a walk so I could get a few sips of water after the first 6 laps, but that only lasted 30 seconds at the most. Then it was back up to 5.3 for the last few laps. Guess that was asking too much. Still, I was finished in 30 minutes, albeit in agony.
So, no cross training swim tonight (sniff). Just rest for tonight and tomorrow so I can attempt the run on Saturday morning. How depressing that my body is breaking down on me even when I'm trying to tune it back up to pre-partying days shape. I suppose the old adage is never so more true than with me: your body is your temple--use it and it won't let you down. Don't, and suffer the consequences. This is not my idea of being a martyr!
For those of you that have never suffered a torn Achilles tendon injury I can tell you they are no fun. Imagine having the sudden sensation of someone hauling off and cracking the back of your lower leg with a baseball bat. One minute you're standing, the next you are looking around behind you looking for the ass that ran into the back of you, but lo and behold there's nobody there! Then the pain hits you in a delayed reaction with such a surge you are wishing upon all the stars above you could turn back time to 10 seconds ago. First you stand up to see if your leg is broken or if you just have a sever cramp you can walk off. Then you come to find out your foot doesn't move. You can stand but you ain't walking. You then slowly realize something is definitely wrong and that sickening feeling of dread, worry and faintness starts to overcome you. Long story short, you get to make an appointment for outpatient surgery, put your leg in a cast for 4-6 weeks, then a walking boot for another month before you get to do painful stretching exercises for the next six to nine months. The only good news about the whole event is that now you have a bionic tendon that will never rip again.
Such was my mind-set I had immediately upon the pain hitting me last night. Once I was able to limp off the treadmill and wipe it down I gimped around the gym trying to shake it off as wifey finished up her run. I sat in my sweat watching the indoor soccer junkies while rubbing my calf trying to pinpoint the pain center. Bingo! It was high up the tendon, near the base of my calf, right where I had felt tightness years before playing volleyball before my right one snapped back in 2007. I did some pseudo-deep tissue massage trying to relieve the tension until Staci showed up with a look of genuine concern. I'm sure she doesn't want a repeat of me needing to be waited on for a month or more, having to help me up and down stairs, into the bath, putting on my socks--you know, basically being an invalid. I gingerly dressed back into my warm-up pants and fleece jacket then gimped my way down the stairs ever slowly slowly and out into the cold night air. How I wished I had parked the car closer!
Ice, aspirin and Xtend were applied and downed when I got us home. Staci made some grilled chicken wraps for dinner (very yummy and light) then we watched The Expendables. What a bunch of past action heroes all on the screen at the same time! It was surprising to see so many, but the movie was just alright. Nothing great. Meanwhile, I tried not to sulk too much about being injured when I have another 3 mile run looming in a few days. I gotta start getting my stamina up which is what I was attempting to do last night. I walked for the first quarter lap to warm up (most likely not NEARLY enough) then upped the speed to 5 to 5.3. My goal was to try and get the miles in under 12 minutes. For the longest time I was just cruising. No pain, no labored breathing, just a nice comfortable rhythm as I watched ESPN news and listened to my iPod. I did take a short break back down to a walk so I could get a few sips of water after the first 6 laps, but that only lasted 30 seconds at the most. Then it was back up to 5.3 for the last few laps. Guess that was asking too much. Still, I was finished in 30 minutes, albeit in agony.
So, no cross training swim tonight (sniff). Just rest for tonight and tomorrow so I can attempt the run on Saturday morning. How depressing that my body is breaking down on me even when I'm trying to tune it back up to pre-partying days shape. I suppose the old adage is never so more true than with me: your body is your temple--use it and it won't let you down. Don't, and suffer the consequences. This is not my idea of being a martyr!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Ain't no sunshine when I run....
Week 3
Sorry for the delay about Saturday mornings 3 mile jaunt through the drizzle/light rain/puddles the size of small lakes, but we hosted a Super Bowl Party Sunday night and I was in no mood to write yesterday! But after 12 hours of blissful rest I'm ready to share our slogging triumph through the water-logged streets of The Fan. We were early arrivals so not to miss the warm-up with the rest of the die-hard trainees. We all looked rather miserable doing calisthenics in a steady light rain, cold and wet with nothing to look forward to except puddle dodging for the next 45 or so minutes. This trip had us running up Main Street through the restaurant district of the Fan, cutting over onto Meadow Street until we hit Monument Avenue then back down through VCU and Monroe Park and across Belvedere back to the Jefferson parking lot. Staci's iPod wasn't charged so I gave her mine since my hands were too numb to try and make it work. Again we started from the rear as I left her to her own devices so I could find a spot where I wasn't surrounded and hemmed in.
I suppose our weekly runs at the gym are beginning to pay off. Neither of us stopped unless forced to do so by traffic. Seems once I get into that rhythm, I just keep rolling along although my feet were soaked almost immediately from unsuccessful attempts at hurdling giant puddles that Richmond's sewer system just can't seem to drain very well. Aside from my squishy, now probably ruined $100 running shoes, I was able to pound out the 3 miles in a little over 30 minutes I'm guessing. Not stopping definitely speeds up the time of getting the run over with. Our trainers are telling us to fight through such an urge; mind over matter (in my case, a LOT of matter). Yes a girl passed me again, but I weigh twice as much as her so I don't feel too bad. I even made it up the hill the last 100 yards offered as a finale, oddly remember my first mile run when I hit the wall and could not do it. Guess this running thing is starting to provide some endurance as well?
Yes, I was tired as hell when it was over but my legs were not screaming in agony as before. I caught my breath fairly quickly and waited for wifey and one of our 20-something friend to show up (she decided to run with us instead of her other location for fun). She showed up about five minutes after me and Staci another five after that. Again, the wife was ever so thrilled of not having to stop at all even though her pace was not terribly quick--at least she is making it the whole way through after never thinking in a million years she was ever capable of such a feat! We both marveled that it wasn't even 9 am yet and we were already done. I was ready for a celebratory breakfast.
Nothing really more to relate about the run--it went faster than expected even if the weather was nasty and dreary. One day Spring may actual come and we won't have to make these runs on bone-chilling mornings with rain or fog or 19 degrees. Our bodies seem to be handling this exercise better than prior weeks. We're recuperating faster and not walking like elderly stroke victims as much. Oh I still feel it if I've sat for too long and I've yet to see my scale not spin three times really fast before setting on my gross tonnage amount but all in all I think this training gig is working. Like I said before, sleeping has become a bonified pleasure and almost instantaneous since we are more physically spent. Waking up is not as painful when the alarm goes off, if I haven't already beaten it with the sun. Staci's been trying to cook more healthful meals as we await our nutritionists recommendations.
Else, the weekend with the kiddies went splendidly. I took them to the Virginia Historical Society's new Civil War interactive exhibit on Sunday before the game. Allison was able to get herself as an escaped slave to safety of the Union lines. Lauren had me running all over the place explaining 10,000 years of Virginia history. I made sure our party had plenty of Jamison's. Hence, Monday's 2.5 mile light run was put off because my friends had many, MANY reasons to toast something or someone. Staci's food was a pure hit--nothing left but a few bowls of chili. Lots of beer left over, too. How odd!
Well, Wednesday we'll be back on track as wifey explained we're not supposed to make up runs we missed without having the rest day in between. So we'll just have to enjoy an extra "off" day before resuming our training schedule. No worries, I'm not dreading the workouts as I did when my body was ever-aching. Dare I say I'm actually looking forward to them? Egads, I have lost my mind!
Sorry for the delay about Saturday mornings 3 mile jaunt through the drizzle/light rain/puddles the size of small lakes, but we hosted a Super Bowl Party Sunday night and I was in no mood to write yesterday! But after 12 hours of blissful rest I'm ready to share our slogging triumph through the water-logged streets of The Fan. We were early arrivals so not to miss the warm-up with the rest of the die-hard trainees. We all looked rather miserable doing calisthenics in a steady light rain, cold and wet with nothing to look forward to except puddle dodging for the next 45 or so minutes. This trip had us running up Main Street through the restaurant district of the Fan, cutting over onto Meadow Street until we hit Monument Avenue then back down through VCU and Monroe Park and across Belvedere back to the Jefferson parking lot. Staci's iPod wasn't charged so I gave her mine since my hands were too numb to try and make it work. Again we started from the rear as I left her to her own devices so I could find a spot where I wasn't surrounded and hemmed in.
I suppose our weekly runs at the gym are beginning to pay off. Neither of us stopped unless forced to do so by traffic. Seems once I get into that rhythm, I just keep rolling along although my feet were soaked almost immediately from unsuccessful attempts at hurdling giant puddles that Richmond's sewer system just can't seem to drain very well. Aside from my squishy, now probably ruined $100 running shoes, I was able to pound out the 3 miles in a little over 30 minutes I'm guessing. Not stopping definitely speeds up the time of getting the run over with. Our trainers are telling us to fight through such an urge; mind over matter (in my case, a LOT of matter). Yes a girl passed me again, but I weigh twice as much as her so I don't feel too bad. I even made it up the hill the last 100 yards offered as a finale, oddly remember my first mile run when I hit the wall and could not do it. Guess this running thing is starting to provide some endurance as well?
Yes, I was tired as hell when it was over but my legs were not screaming in agony as before. I caught my breath fairly quickly and waited for wifey and one of our 20-something friend to show up (she decided to run with us instead of her other location for fun). She showed up about five minutes after me and Staci another five after that. Again, the wife was ever so thrilled of not having to stop at all even though her pace was not terribly quick--at least she is making it the whole way through after never thinking in a million years she was ever capable of such a feat! We both marveled that it wasn't even 9 am yet and we were already done. I was ready for a celebratory breakfast.
Nothing really more to relate about the run--it went faster than expected even if the weather was nasty and dreary. One day Spring may actual come and we won't have to make these runs on bone-chilling mornings with rain or fog or 19 degrees. Our bodies seem to be handling this exercise better than prior weeks. We're recuperating faster and not walking like elderly stroke victims as much. Oh I still feel it if I've sat for too long and I've yet to see my scale not spin three times really fast before setting on my gross tonnage amount but all in all I think this training gig is working. Like I said before, sleeping has become a bonified pleasure and almost instantaneous since we are more physically spent. Waking up is not as painful when the alarm goes off, if I haven't already beaten it with the sun. Staci's been trying to cook more healthful meals as we await our nutritionists recommendations.
Else, the weekend with the kiddies went splendidly. I took them to the Virginia Historical Society's new Civil War interactive exhibit on Sunday before the game. Allison was able to get herself as an escaped slave to safety of the Union lines. Lauren had me running all over the place explaining 10,000 years of Virginia history. I made sure our party had plenty of Jamison's. Hence, Monday's 2.5 mile light run was put off because my friends had many, MANY reasons to toast something or someone. Staci's food was a pure hit--nothing left but a few bowls of chili. Lots of beer left over, too. How odd!
Well, Wednesday we'll be back on track as wifey explained we're not supposed to make up runs we missed without having the rest day in between. So we'll just have to enjoy an extra "off" day before resuming our training schedule. No worries, I'm not dreading the workouts as I did when my body was ever-aching. Dare I say I'm actually looking forward to them? Egads, I have lost my mind!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Swimming definitely ain't what it used to be!
I was finally able to cross-train at the gym's sweet pool last night, albeit without the company of wifey. With new swim trunks and goggles in tow I headed straight to the lockers by the lap lanes and breathed in the memory inducing wafts of chlorinated salt-water. Now for those of you who didn't know, ol' Art here was a fairly accomplished swimmer back in the glory years of 1972-1983. My summer league team at the Country Club of Fairfax saw me swim in every division, from 8-Under to 15-18 age groups. From a neophyte that had my mom throw me onto the team as a wee seven year old that had to hold his breath to swim a lap of freestyle, to a blue-ribbon regular winner, setting team and league records whilst building a wonderful rapport with friends and parents that saw me grow up. I was even scouted and swam on my college team until beer and girls seemed a more worthwhile pursuit!
Anyway, enough of the glory days. Last night saw me take to an empty lap lane and start counting my laps in a variety of strokes. I've never swum in a salt-water pool before and science is right, it is more buoyant. I had a hard time trying to make my complete pull under water in breast stroke before popping back to the surface. Not that many noticed; the place maybe had ten people in it, not including the 3 lifeguards on duty, each staring into oblivion. Good to know some things never change! My first few laps were a snap. Swimming is like riding a bike, once you learn you never forget--well the mind never forgets that is. The body has a whole different take on such things. My mind told my arms and legs what to do from the years of practice and the thousands of laps I've logged, but after ten minutes or so my arms simply didn't want to stretch as far nor pull as hard nor move me as fast. What the heck?
I recalled a race I swam many moons ago about tightening up on the home lap of a race and the fear and dread of possibly not being able to finish without being disqualified, let alone win. Thankfully this flashback was not gonna cause me any real consternation other than the now omnipresent reminder that I am a middle-aged oaf and that I cannot do what I once did or took for granted. I huffed and puffed my way to a rest after the end of 8 straight laps marveling at the sheer magnitude of my out of shapeness. Maybe my legs are toning from all the miles put in over these last couple of weeks but the upper body is in sever need of an overhaul. Weightlifting aside, there is no better overall workout that uses as many muscles as a good swim. My latissimi dorsi were screaming. My arms wouldn't go all the way over my head. I was instinctively stretching my shoulders across my body trying in vain to loosen up. Sweat beads were popping up on my shoulders, I sure sign I was doing something right. Of course, my rapid breathing and pulse could have told me that, too!
Once I calmed down enough to try some more, off I went again but now the laps were slower and more labored. I did my goal of 20 and said enough of that! I made a point to explore the other amenities the pool had to offer such as the giant whirlpool enclosure and impressive 20-seat hot tub. I didn't go down the water slide tube although tempted (no they won't let you go down head first!). The whirlpool has these big pipes that create a circular current that I guess you are supposed to walk against to strengthen your thighs and balance. Instead, I floated along with is as if an otter at play. Once I tired of that I waded over to the hot tub which had just a few people in it. It was way hotter than expected. No wonder the entire pool area felt like I sauna. The overflow actually ran into the wading area so that answered my question about the pleasant water temperature all around. 15 minutes of water-jet propulsion bliss and I was spent.
I was hot, tired and relaxed all at the same time. Getting dressed again proved to be a chore since balance and strength tend to wane when one is so jello-y. The cool night air wasn't minded in the least as I returned to the car for the five minute drive home. Staci was no where to be seen--still working on an upgrade for her systems at work, so I made a sandwich for dinner and watched The Runaways. The chick from Twilight is a dead ringer for Joan Jett. Staci came home after 8 and immediately headed up to the office to work until 3 am. So no cross-training for her before our 3 mile run tomorrow. I just hope I behave for the Super Bowl party we're hosting since our mileage will increase next week yet again. These "off" days are way too few and far between, unless that is, you work for Suntrust!
Anyway, enough of the glory days. Last night saw me take to an empty lap lane and start counting my laps in a variety of strokes. I've never swum in a salt-water pool before and science is right, it is more buoyant. I had a hard time trying to make my complete pull under water in breast stroke before popping back to the surface. Not that many noticed; the place maybe had ten people in it, not including the 3 lifeguards on duty, each staring into oblivion. Good to know some things never change! My first few laps were a snap. Swimming is like riding a bike, once you learn you never forget--well the mind never forgets that is. The body has a whole different take on such things. My mind told my arms and legs what to do from the years of practice and the thousands of laps I've logged, but after ten minutes or so my arms simply didn't want to stretch as far nor pull as hard nor move me as fast. What the heck?
I recalled a race I swam many moons ago about tightening up on the home lap of a race and the fear and dread of possibly not being able to finish without being disqualified, let alone win. Thankfully this flashback was not gonna cause me any real consternation other than the now omnipresent reminder that I am a middle-aged oaf and that I cannot do what I once did or took for granted. I huffed and puffed my way to a rest after the end of 8 straight laps marveling at the sheer magnitude of my out of shapeness. Maybe my legs are toning from all the miles put in over these last couple of weeks but the upper body is in sever need of an overhaul. Weightlifting aside, there is no better overall workout that uses as many muscles as a good swim. My latissimi dorsi were screaming. My arms wouldn't go all the way over my head. I was instinctively stretching my shoulders across my body trying in vain to loosen up. Sweat beads were popping up on my shoulders, I sure sign I was doing something right. Of course, my rapid breathing and pulse could have told me that, too!
Once I calmed down enough to try some more, off I went again but now the laps were slower and more labored. I did my goal of 20 and said enough of that! I made a point to explore the other amenities the pool had to offer such as the giant whirlpool enclosure and impressive 20-seat hot tub. I didn't go down the water slide tube although tempted (no they won't let you go down head first!). The whirlpool has these big pipes that create a circular current that I guess you are supposed to walk against to strengthen your thighs and balance. Instead, I floated along with is as if an otter at play. Once I tired of that I waded over to the hot tub which had just a few people in it. It was way hotter than expected. No wonder the entire pool area felt like I sauna. The overflow actually ran into the wading area so that answered my question about the pleasant water temperature all around. 15 minutes of water-jet propulsion bliss and I was spent.
I was hot, tired and relaxed all at the same time. Getting dressed again proved to be a chore since balance and strength tend to wane when one is so jello-y. The cool night air wasn't minded in the least as I returned to the car for the five minute drive home. Staci was no where to be seen--still working on an upgrade for her systems at work, so I made a sandwich for dinner and watched The Runaways. The chick from Twilight is a dead ringer for Joan Jett. Staci came home after 8 and immediately headed up to the office to work until 3 am. So no cross-training for her before our 3 mile run tomorrow. I just hope I behave for the Super Bowl party we're hosting since our mileage will increase next week yet again. These "off" days are way too few and far between, unless that is, you work for Suntrust!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Conquering a Treadmill 101
I had every intention of going back to running the track last night for our 2.5 mile "easy" jog but, alas, there were two treadmills lying empty side-by-side, so I thought I'd give it another go using Wifey's suggestions. This time no holding onto the bar so my pulse could be read, just an easy walk followed by a moderate jog. I walked maybe half a lap before starting in on my run at the 4.7 level. This time I had Egypt's civil unrest on the TV to entertain me while I listened to my 25 most played songs on my iPod. Miraculously I somehow found my balance to not drop off the edge and managed a full mile before easting back into a walk to get a chug of water and readjust my iPod that kept having the volume go haywire on me.
Yes, my shins and hips let me know I was trying to haul a pseudo behemoth along this path to nowhere yet I pushed ahead through the pain as our coaches weekly newsletter urged us on to do. Again the sweat came tumbling down in rivers, soaking my shirt and shorts in little time. I tried to stay focused on the TV and my music and only stopped at 2 miles in to a walk to get some more water (note to self: make sure the water bottle has cold water in it--warm water tastes like crap!)
I then did the unthinkable: I upped the speed level to an even 5-spot that got my mile time to 12 minutes flat (technically). This I ran for the final 2 laps to make the 2.5 miles in a little over 30 minutes. Not too bad for a novice I suppose. Wifey was still a few laps behind me on her treadmill gauge so I walked around to lessen any chance of sudden and devastating cramps. I'm still amazed at all the 80 pounders running at full tilt on all the different apparatus'; rowing machines, stair masters that take you nowhere, elliptical machines that make you think you're a Nordic ski racer, etc. I ended up sitting and watching the indoor soccer foreigners play for a bit until Staci finally showed up, red faced and actually sweating almost as bad as me, telling me she managed 2.8 as she wanted to compensate for the extra walking she did. Oh how proud I am of her! Two weeks ago she couldn't run a block and now lookie!
Xtend is still our drug of choice when we got home. I peeled off my nasty clothes and took a quick shower as Staci made a light supper. Iron Man 2 was REALLY good! Meanwhile, we're still a bit perturbed that we are not losing any weight--rather gaining! All that we've read says that we are replacing fat weight with muscle weight and that is supposedly common in new runners. Staci has solicited a dietitian to look at our meals, which I think are healthy, but she thinks we need to fine-tune. Great, first I'm sore all the time and now eating is gonna suck! Guess all the Julia Child cookbooks Staci's been reading voraciously aren't gonna get used anytime soon!
Well, it's off to the pool tonight to cross-train. Staci has an install to do tonight (thanks Suntrust!) so I'm going solo to the gym this time around. Probably for the best because I wanna check out all the amenities the pool has to offer besides swimming friggin' laps! I did that for 12 years and haven't missed it. Perhaps I can impress with a 3/4 lap of my awesome butterfly before I choke?
Yes, my shins and hips let me know I was trying to haul a pseudo behemoth along this path to nowhere yet I pushed ahead through the pain as our coaches weekly newsletter urged us on to do. Again the sweat came tumbling down in rivers, soaking my shirt and shorts in little time. I tried to stay focused on the TV and my music and only stopped at 2 miles in to a walk to get some more water (note to self: make sure the water bottle has cold water in it--warm water tastes like crap!)
I then did the unthinkable: I upped the speed level to an even 5-spot that got my mile time to 12 minutes flat (technically). This I ran for the final 2 laps to make the 2.5 miles in a little over 30 minutes. Not too bad for a novice I suppose. Wifey was still a few laps behind me on her treadmill gauge so I walked around to lessen any chance of sudden and devastating cramps. I'm still amazed at all the 80 pounders running at full tilt on all the different apparatus'; rowing machines, stair masters that take you nowhere, elliptical machines that make you think you're a Nordic ski racer, etc. I ended up sitting and watching the indoor soccer foreigners play for a bit until Staci finally showed up, red faced and actually sweating almost as bad as me, telling me she managed 2.8 as she wanted to compensate for the extra walking she did. Oh how proud I am of her! Two weeks ago she couldn't run a block and now lookie!
Xtend is still our drug of choice when we got home. I peeled off my nasty clothes and took a quick shower as Staci made a light supper. Iron Man 2 was REALLY good! Meanwhile, we're still a bit perturbed that we are not losing any weight--rather gaining! All that we've read says that we are replacing fat weight with muscle weight and that is supposedly common in new runners. Staci has solicited a dietitian to look at our meals, which I think are healthy, but she thinks we need to fine-tune. Great, first I'm sore all the time and now eating is gonna suck! Guess all the Julia Child cookbooks Staci's been reading voraciously aren't gonna get used anytime soon!
Well, it's off to the pool tonight to cross-train. Staci has an install to do tonight (thanks Suntrust!) so I'm going solo to the gym this time around. Probably for the best because I wanna check out all the amenities the pool has to offer besides swimming friggin' laps! I did that for 12 years and haven't missed it. Perhaps I can impress with a 3/4 lap of my awesome butterfly before I choke?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Treadmills are NOT my friend
Perhaps it was because I had the speed up too fast (4.7) or was holding onto the handle so the thing could take my pulse, but damn my shins hurt after a two mile run (sometimes walk) initial treadmill experience! I was sweating like a freshly bred stallion, soaking every piece of clothing as if I'd been dunked in the pool I so longingly wanted to go swimming in. Staci said I went too fast as I was supposed to take it easy but I was only trying to find a speed I actually had to jog. Anything less made me only want to walk. But the jogging part also had me losing my balance, hence the holding on part (listening to my iPod and trying to watch the Georgetown-Louisville b-ball game while jogging on a foreign piece of equipment must have thrown my balancing center off guard). She went on to say I was leaning too far forward resulting in my shins taking the brunt of the G-forces from my 1/8th ton frame.
I don't think I was leaning so far forward, it didn't feel like I was but I think I'll stick to running the track even though I'll miss the little beacon telling me how far I was going around the imaginary track on the treadmill display. Supposedly I was cranking out a 12 and change minute mile but the walking interludes most certainly added to that given my shins were screaming in agony. Plus, the gym was packed with treadmill and elliptical users. So much so that we had to wander about for ten minutes before we found two side-by-side to use. Staci did it right by walking a bit to warm up. I was more concerned about how to turn the bloody thing on and started running as soon as I got the speed set to what I thought was "easy". After less than a "lap" I was already beginning to sweat off Saturday nights beer/wine/liquor intake. By half a mile it was dripping freely into my eyes. By a mile I was using my sweat rag to wipe off the handles and my arms. Not long after I dropped it mistakenly by my feet and off it flew behind me. I thought for surely I'd follow soon afterward.
It was here I had to take a "breather" and walk for a bit, dropping the speed to 2.7. Sweat was pouring off me like rain drops onto the tread and I began to wonder if the slickness would cause my ultimate embarrassment by having my feet go out from under me at any moment. I walked for half a "lap" then sped the thing up again to ramming speed. I dropped it back down again to a walking pace once my shins alerted me that at any moment they would snap like dry kindling. A quarter "lap" this time. As the pain subsided I'd go back to jogging, 3/4's of a lap this go round. This went on for the whole second mile but finally I was over this whole treadmill experience and set the damn speed to 5.something so I could get the 2 miles in and get off the stupid thing.
It was odd to see a Hijab-wearing Muslim girl waiting to take my place on it, but only after I wobbly-wiped the contraption down. I can only imagine the thoughts going through her head as this big fat sweaty American tried in vain to do so. By the looks of me, how could it be too hard to overthrow a nation so full of a bunch of gun-toting weebles? I just hope for my sake the Koran doesn't have anything about mandatory use of treadmills if that ever came to pass!
Staci finished soon after and was not at all as stiff as I was when walking back to the car, so conveniently parked over a block away. She drove as I suffered. She had made a big bottle of Xtend for us to share when we got home, so that was a God-send. A light dinner soon followed after a shower since it was after 8 pm. Then I giggled to a few Family Guy episodes before calling it a night. Sleep was instantaneous.
Today is an off day and my shins need it. Surprisingly, my calf and hip issues aren't as noticeable as before. Maybe because I have new issues that supersede them? Regardless, I'm gonna use this day to re-stock the fridge and rest me weary bones before the increase to 2.5 miles on Wednesday. Ugh! And to think we go 3 miles for Saturdays run! I'd better get a move on--get busy running or get busy learning Arabic!
I don't think I was leaning so far forward, it didn't feel like I was but I think I'll stick to running the track even though I'll miss the little beacon telling me how far I was going around the imaginary track on the treadmill display. Supposedly I was cranking out a 12 and change minute mile but the walking interludes most certainly added to that given my shins were screaming in agony. Plus, the gym was packed with treadmill and elliptical users. So much so that we had to wander about for ten minutes before we found two side-by-side to use. Staci did it right by walking a bit to warm up. I was more concerned about how to turn the bloody thing on and started running as soon as I got the speed set to what I thought was "easy". After less than a "lap" I was already beginning to sweat off Saturday nights beer/wine/liquor intake. By half a mile it was dripping freely into my eyes. By a mile I was using my sweat rag to wipe off the handles and my arms. Not long after I dropped it mistakenly by my feet and off it flew behind me. I thought for surely I'd follow soon afterward.
It was here I had to take a "breather" and walk for a bit, dropping the speed to 2.7. Sweat was pouring off me like rain drops onto the tread and I began to wonder if the slickness would cause my ultimate embarrassment by having my feet go out from under me at any moment. I walked for half a "lap" then sped the thing up again to ramming speed. I dropped it back down again to a walking pace once my shins alerted me that at any moment they would snap like dry kindling. A quarter "lap" this time. As the pain subsided I'd go back to jogging, 3/4's of a lap this go round. This went on for the whole second mile but finally I was over this whole treadmill experience and set the damn speed to 5.something so I could get the 2 miles in and get off the stupid thing.
It was odd to see a Hijab-wearing Muslim girl waiting to take my place on it, but only after I wobbly-wiped the contraption down. I can only imagine the thoughts going through her head as this big fat sweaty American tried in vain to do so. By the looks of me, how could it be too hard to overthrow a nation so full of a bunch of gun-toting weebles? I just hope for my sake the Koran doesn't have anything about mandatory use of treadmills if that ever came to pass!
Staci finished soon after and was not at all as stiff as I was when walking back to the car, so conveniently parked over a block away. She drove as I suffered. She had made a big bottle of Xtend for us to share when we got home, so that was a God-send. A light dinner soon followed after a shower since it was after 8 pm. Then I giggled to a few Family Guy episodes before calling it a night. Sleep was instantaneous.
Today is an off day and my shins need it. Surprisingly, my calf and hip issues aren't as noticeable as before. Maybe because I have new issues that supersede them? Regardless, I'm gonna use this day to re-stock the fridge and rest me weary bones before the increase to 2.5 miles on Wednesday. Ugh! And to think we go 3 miles for Saturdays run! I'd better get a move on--get busy running or get busy learning Arabic!
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