So I've kept up my training plan for the Toad. I ran 15km last weekend, and then ran 12.5km on Saturday, and 10km on Sunday, all at race pace. Actually, probably faster than race pace, because honestly I'm not sure I could hold that pace for 25km on trails, and that's not really my plan.
But here's an awesome thing: I can now hold the 5:00/km for 12km. I used to struggle to hold it for 5km. In fact, that seems to be the pace my feet now want to run, and when I'm feeling even peppier, I'll pick it up for about 4:40/km. I was able to run 12km in 59:56 on Saturday, which pleased me to no end. It was a hilly course and I fought a huge headwind for the last half of the run, but I kept my pace consistent throughout -- really pleased with that run. The only thing I can add is that it's hard work to run that hard for an hour. That's all.
But I think it's good for me. It reminds me/teaches me that I can do things that are hard, that I can keep going.
I'm running with a shorter more upright stride, like my physio showed me, and it's true, I can really go faster running that way. But it's also harder, uses different muscles: stomach, glutes, inner thighs. That's the core right there.
If I'm to be honest, I'll admit I've been having some twinges of pain in my hip these last few runs. So I've added my physio exercises back in. I hope it won't get worse. I love running long distances but maybe my body doesn't? I hope these exercises keep the pain to twinge level. At least I know, having had all those tests done last winter, that it's not a stress fracture or anything too serious.
Managed my second run of the weekend in 50:21 for 10km. Not bad. Consistent, again. In fact, for three straight kilometres, I ran exactly 5:00/km. Taking just 20 seconds off of each kilometre takes a huge effort. My new goal (assuming the hip holds) is to make 4:40 my standard pace, and 4:30 my speedier pace. I could start by just holding 4:40 over 5km, and then work my way up -- after all, it's worked for the 5:00 pace.
Why do I like going fast? I wonder, but I'll never know.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
A good note
I'm ending this week on a good note: a great long run!
I wanted to run 2 hours to try to see if I felt prepared for the Toad, which is in just under four weeks from now. As I got going and settled in to the run, I continued to feel really good, and I decided to aim for a half-marathon distance at minimum. The kilometres really started ticking away by the time I'd gotten into the teens. I'd set my watch to give me my split for every kilometre, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer I went, the faster I got--and not just a tiny bit faster, a whole lot faster. I'd planned to aim for a 5:30/km pace, since it was a fairly long run. I stuck to that for about the first 10km, which I did in 54 minutes, but gradually my pace began to speed up, until I realized I'd run the 16th kilometre in 4:42. In fact, I ran each of the last 5.5 kilometres of that half-marathon distance at a 4:45 pace. I couldn't believe it. I have a hard time holding that pace when I run JUST five kilometres on my speed runs.
In the end, I ran 23km in exactly 2 hours! And I finished my half-marathon distance in 1:52:20, which is almost three minutes faster than I ran my real half-marathon a year and a half ago.
I'm feeling much more confident about tackling the Toad right about now.
And I'm getting to experience again what I remember experiencing in my long runs and races last year -- that I would get faster the further I went, not slower. I mean, I was just ticking along. I think my legs were just about numb, to tell the truth. My breath was extremely even. I was just laying down the pace without even thinking about it.
My training plan is to do a couple of shorter speed runs this week (by shorter, I mean 10km, and hopefully at least once at my favourite place to run trails -- because I need the hill work).
Then I will do a shortish long run this coming weekend, between 15-18km.
Then two 12km runs back to back on the following weekend. And then rest up a bit!
Because then it's race weekend.
I will keep aiming to run five times a week, not necessarily for super-long distances. So far, I've been holding steady at four runs a week, which isn't fabulous, but hey. Seems to be working okay.
I wanted to run 2 hours to try to see if I felt prepared for the Toad, which is in just under four weeks from now. As I got going and settled in to the run, I continued to feel really good, and I decided to aim for a half-marathon distance at minimum. The kilometres really started ticking away by the time I'd gotten into the teens. I'd set my watch to give me my split for every kilometre, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer I went, the faster I got--and not just a tiny bit faster, a whole lot faster. I'd planned to aim for a 5:30/km pace, since it was a fairly long run. I stuck to that for about the first 10km, which I did in 54 minutes, but gradually my pace began to speed up, until I realized I'd run the 16th kilometre in 4:42. In fact, I ran each of the last 5.5 kilometres of that half-marathon distance at a 4:45 pace. I couldn't believe it. I have a hard time holding that pace when I run JUST five kilometres on my speed runs.
In the end, I ran 23km in exactly 2 hours! And I finished my half-marathon distance in 1:52:20, which is almost three minutes faster than I ran my real half-marathon a year and a half ago.
I'm feeling much more confident about tackling the Toad right about now.
And I'm getting to experience again what I remember experiencing in my long runs and races last year -- that I would get faster the further I went, not slower. I mean, I was just ticking along. I think my legs were just about numb, to tell the truth. My breath was extremely even. I was just laying down the pace without even thinking about it.
My training plan is to do a couple of shorter speed runs this week (by shorter, I mean 10km, and hopefully at least once at my favourite place to run trails -- because I need the hill work).
Then I will do a shortish long run this coming weekend, between 15-18km.
Then two 12km runs back to back on the following weekend. And then rest up a bit!
Because then it's race weekend.
I will keep aiming to run five times a week, not necessarily for super-long distances. So far, I've been holding steady at four runs a week, which isn't fabulous, but hey. Seems to be working okay.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
One step and then another
Today has been an excruciating day, and my sense is that I probably won't choose to write about it on my main blog. But I still want to write about it, and acknowledge what's happening, and this blog actually seems like the perfect place to reflect on it.
Today, the longlist for a Canadian literary prize was announced -- the most important literary prize Canada offers for fiction -- and my new book was not on it. I knew it would be a long-shot, but my publisher and agent were both very hopeful. I'm crushed to have disappointed them--and myself. Getting onto the list would boost sales, garner attention, basically help sell books, which is what I'm supposed to do, as a writer (often people forget that part of the equation, but it's pretty critical to me continuing to be able to write, and more to the point, to publish.)
My initial emotion upon hearing the news was shame, which makes no logical sense. A jury of three people chose a handful of books from an eligible pool of 227. It would have been a stroke of great fortune to be among that handful, and not being there, while disappointing, is hardly shameful.
I don't know why that was what I felt. But I did.
A few hours on, I'm doing better. I bounce.
Here's how this experience relates to the training I've been doing recently. I've been doing some hard runs, trying to give a quick-ish bump to my fitness level so I can race the 25 km trail run I'm signed up to run in a few weeks. In the past five days, I've done two 10km runs, trying to run right at my edge, and last night I went 13km, still pushing to my edge. At 10km, my edge is just under 5 min/km -- at least, I can hold on for about 9 km before slowing slightly. At 13km, my edge is just over 5 min/km. I was pleased to have completed 13.1km yesterday in a time of 1 hour, seven minutes. That's two minutes off a five flat pace. Pretty fast for me. And I could hold it, and if I'd thought to bring water along, I could have gone further.
But here's the thing: every step of those runs is hard work. Every single step. There isn't a step that feels easy. I'm pushing myself the whole way. I have remind myself repeatedly to maintain the intesity of effort.
I find I can't even do it another way (unless I'm running with someone else).
My life as a writer is very similar. I push myself. I set goals that may actually be slightly beyond my reach, but I believe in my own ability to get there. When I don't, it's painful. But I can't stop myself from continuing to try, despite setbacks.
Every step of the way is hard. It never gets easier, because as I get stronger, I don't glide; instead, I push a little harder, expect a little more. It seems to be in my character. Failure hurts, but it isn't a real obstacle. The only obstacle is my response to failure. So I took some to feel sad this morning, and I know the sadness is going to grab me now and again in the days and weeks to come. But I'm going to keep on keeping on. One step at a time.
Today, the longlist for a Canadian literary prize was announced -- the most important literary prize Canada offers for fiction -- and my new book was not on it. I knew it would be a long-shot, but my publisher and agent were both very hopeful. I'm crushed to have disappointed them--and myself. Getting onto the list would boost sales, garner attention, basically help sell books, which is what I'm supposed to do, as a writer (often people forget that part of the equation, but it's pretty critical to me continuing to be able to write, and more to the point, to publish.)
My initial emotion upon hearing the news was shame, which makes no logical sense. A jury of three people chose a handful of books from an eligible pool of 227. It would have been a stroke of great fortune to be among that handful, and not being there, while disappointing, is hardly shameful.
I don't know why that was what I felt. But I did.
A few hours on, I'm doing better. I bounce.
Here's how this experience relates to the training I've been doing recently. I've been doing some hard runs, trying to give a quick-ish bump to my fitness level so I can race the 25 km trail run I'm signed up to run in a few weeks. In the past five days, I've done two 10km runs, trying to run right at my edge, and last night I went 13km, still pushing to my edge. At 10km, my edge is just under 5 min/km -- at least, I can hold on for about 9 km before slowing slightly. At 13km, my edge is just over 5 min/km. I was pleased to have completed 13.1km yesterday in a time of 1 hour, seven minutes. That's two minutes off a five flat pace. Pretty fast for me. And I could hold it, and if I'd thought to bring water along, I could have gone further.
But here's the thing: every step of those runs is hard work. Every single step. There isn't a step that feels easy. I'm pushing myself the whole way. I have remind myself repeatedly to maintain the intesity of effort.
I find I can't even do it another way (unless I'm running with someone else).
My life as a writer is very similar. I push myself. I set goals that may actually be slightly beyond my reach, but I believe in my own ability to get there. When I don't, it's painful. But I can't stop myself from continuing to try, despite setbacks.
Every step of the way is hard. It never gets easier, because as I get stronger, I don't glide; instead, I push a little harder, expect a little more. It seems to be in my character. Failure hurts, but it isn't a real obstacle. The only obstacle is my response to failure. So I took some to feel sad this morning, and I know the sadness is going to grab me now and again in the days and weeks to come. But I'm going to keep on keeping on. One step at a time.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
The best-laid plans
Well, I didn't run every other day last week. We were at a water-access-only cottage for most of the week and I would have had to boat out to run on a country road, which seemed not terribly appealing, especially with lovely hot weather and a lake to swim in instead.
After my 16km run awhile back, I played half a game of soccer the next day without ill effect (half because I got the time wrong and showed up late; oops). I ran fast and hard, however, for 45 minutes without feeling fatigued at all.
The next day I did a 90-minute hot yoga class. It was almost too easy, though. Nice, but easy. I did discover that my hips are ridiculously tight. Ugh.
I also got a few runs in, but not the five I'd planned: 9km slow; 7km in 35:35; 7km in 35:25. And a spin/weight class that really kicked my ass (we had a substitute teacher ...).
Then I spent a day canning, and the next day at a soccer tournament and packing and driving, so I got no runs or exercise in whatsoever. When we got to the hotel, I'd planned to run on the treadmill -- and the gym was already closed. I was pretty grumpy and irritable. Sitting does not suit me!
But on the first two full days of our holiday, I actually had back-to-back excellent runs in two different but very beautiful locations. On Monday morning, I ran off the stress of the long car ride by going 10km in 48:40. That's less than a minute off my fastest (okay, only) race time, so I was really pleased; especially pleased because I'd started with my fastest 5km time, speeding through it in 23:29. I couldn't quite maintain the pace, but I hadn't actually planned on running 10km, just got going and decided to keep going. In fact, I even stopped to walk after 9km, which had brought me back to the hotel, then thought, what the heck, I might as well see how fast I crank out a full 10, so I set out again.
The next day I ran 7km in 34:26, on a killer hilly course. I was pleased to be keeping it under 5min/km, which is my "fast."
And then I didn't run again until this morning! Circumstances.
But I did swim. I swam twice a day for about half an hour each swim. Two days in a row I also did a long distance swim that took me longer than half an hour. The second and last long distance swim actually turned out to be kind of scary. Luckily I had my husband along in a kayak (because there are motorboats and skiidoos on this lake too, and a tiny bobbing swimmer's cap isn't terribly visible). My arms must have been more tired than I'd realized from the previous days long distance swim, and the water was really cold. I started gasping when I put my head under -- but I was already way out in the middle of the lake by that point. Luckily, I could hold onto the back of the kayak -- my husband pulled me part of the way home until I was ready to try swimming again. The water is very deep and I found it kind of spooky looking down on all that dark nothingness. (That might have been making me gasp, actually, as much as the cold.) My imagination is way too over-active! I think it was my mental state more than my physical state that affected that swim, and which I couldn't seem to overcome.
Anyway, my advice is: never ever ever swim alone! I didn't do any of my swims alone, even the ones closer to shore, and I kept a close eye on my husband on his swims too.
But I'd do it again -- attempt the long distance lake swim. The first day I had some similar panicked moments looking down into the dark depths, but I was able to overcome my panic, and once I got over it, I felt like I could have kept swimming forever. My limbs were kind of frozen from the cold, but the rhythm felt very serene, as if it could be sustained for a very long time. I liked it. But I'm not making crazy August plans to swim across Lake Ontario next summer or anything ...
One other running note: I've noticed that my left knee aches after a slow run, but it doesn't hurt at all after a fast one. Curious, huh. The slow runs almost feel harder on my body.
After my 16km run awhile back, I played half a game of soccer the next day without ill effect (half because I got the time wrong and showed up late; oops). I ran fast and hard, however, for 45 minutes without feeling fatigued at all.
The next day I did a 90-minute hot yoga class. It was almost too easy, though. Nice, but easy. I did discover that my hips are ridiculously tight. Ugh.
I also got a few runs in, but not the five I'd planned: 9km slow; 7km in 35:35; 7km in 35:25. And a spin/weight class that really kicked my ass (we had a substitute teacher ...).
Then I spent a day canning, and the next day at a soccer tournament and packing and driving, so I got no runs or exercise in whatsoever. When we got to the hotel, I'd planned to run on the treadmill -- and the gym was already closed. I was pretty grumpy and irritable. Sitting does not suit me!
But on the first two full days of our holiday, I actually had back-to-back excellent runs in two different but very beautiful locations. On Monday morning, I ran off the stress of the long car ride by going 10km in 48:40. That's less than a minute off my fastest (okay, only) race time, so I was really pleased; especially pleased because I'd started with my fastest 5km time, speeding through it in 23:29. I couldn't quite maintain the pace, but I hadn't actually planned on running 10km, just got going and decided to keep going. In fact, I even stopped to walk after 9km, which had brought me back to the hotel, then thought, what the heck, I might as well see how fast I crank out a full 10, so I set out again.
The next day I ran 7km in 34:26, on a killer hilly course. I was pleased to be keeping it under 5min/km, which is my "fast."
And then I didn't run again until this morning! Circumstances.
But I did swim. I swam twice a day for about half an hour each swim. Two days in a row I also did a long distance swim that took me longer than half an hour. The second and last long distance swim actually turned out to be kind of scary. Luckily I had my husband along in a kayak (because there are motorboats and skiidoos on this lake too, and a tiny bobbing swimmer's cap isn't terribly visible). My arms must have been more tired than I'd realized from the previous days long distance swim, and the water was really cold. I started gasping when I put my head under -- but I was already way out in the middle of the lake by that point. Luckily, I could hold onto the back of the kayak -- my husband pulled me part of the way home until I was ready to try swimming again. The water is very deep and I found it kind of spooky looking down on all that dark nothingness. (That might have been making me gasp, actually, as much as the cold.) My imagination is way too over-active! I think it was my mental state more than my physical state that affected that swim, and which I couldn't seem to overcome.
Anyway, my advice is: never ever ever swim alone! I didn't do any of my swims alone, even the ones closer to shore, and I kept a close eye on my husband on his swims too.
But I'd do it again -- attempt the long distance lake swim. The first day I had some similar panicked moments looking down into the dark depths, but I was able to overcome my panic, and once I got over it, I felt like I could have kept swimming forever. My limbs were kind of frozen from the cold, but the rhythm felt very serene, as if it could be sustained for a very long time. I liked it. But I'm not making crazy August plans to swim across Lake Ontario next summer or anything ...
One other running note: I've noticed that my left knee aches after a slow run, but it doesn't hurt at all after a fast one. Curious, huh. The slow runs almost feel harder on my body.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Summer blues
August. Never my happiest month. I think I keep expecting something of myself come September: some new and exciting direction, some elaborate plan, some back-to-school nerves. But of course, I'm an adult, pretty much set in my routines and schedules, and August just means, well, the end of summer.
Two years ago in August I had the brilliant idea that I wanted to complete a triathlon. Amazingly, I achieved the goal in less than a year, despite having to learn how to swim. Two summers later, I love swimming.
July was all about swimming. I'm hoping to continue swimming at least a few times this week, in the outdoor pool, and lots next week, in a lake (which is a very different experience). Because it doesn't involve the same pounding that running does, I can do it every day. I'm not so sure about running every day.
But I discovered something, reading about those Olympic marathoners and 5,000/10,000 metre specialists: they run not just every day, but three times a day. Yipes. I'll bet that would make me faster ... or injure me in the process. And I can't possibly devote that kind of time to the pursuit of speed, not at this late date in my athletic life. I'm not exactly in my prime anymore.
This past week, my goal was to run every other day. I started last Saturday with the 35 minute treadmill run. Monday I ran 10km in a respectable 52 minutes (respectable, but not especially fast for me.) Then I ran Tuesday (oops), 5km, brutal. I'd just eaten supper, and thought I was going to throw up. Not pretty. Not fast either. Got up the next morning, Wednesday, and ran 9km with my friend (we always go slowly, for which I was truly grateful). A few hours later, I swam 1600m at the pool, and felt terrific, not at all tired and achy, which surprised me. Bouyancy, I guess. Then I subbed in my spin/kettlebell class on Thursday, ran out of time to squeeze in a run on Friday, and instead got up early on Saturday and ran 16km. I didn't even let myself think about it in advance, just got up, put on running clothes, ate banana, took a drink along, and went out. I told my husband I'd be going 10-12km, because that was all I could bear to think of running myself.
And then I got going. And then 16km seemed pretty manageable. In fact, I was quite sure I could have run a half-marathon distance without harming myself. That said, the pounding on my joints feels greater, lately, than I remember it feeling last summer when I was training for distance, and I wonder: is it age? Is it just that I've forgotten how the pounding feels? Is it having been injured? I wonder whether I read my body's signals differently post-injury. A bit of fear added in, somehow.
In any case, I was thrilled to have gone 16km. And I played my soccer game yesterday without ill effect. I didn't fatigued or worn out in the least.
Soccer has changed my training, a bit. I've been hesitant to do long runs the day before a soccer game (which is a long run in and of itself -- 90 minutes of interval training, essentially, tons of sprints, and movement up and down the field). But on Saturday I decided just to train for today, not worry about tomorrow. I need to maintain that mentality and get out for more long runs. I think if I can get a couple around 20km, and continue running at least five times a week, I'll be able to complete the Run for the Toad at the end of September. The only issue will be me giving myself permission to complete it in a slower time than last year's. There is no way I can duplicate the kind of training I'd done going into last year's race, mainly because I lost out on the winter training due to the hip injury, and I can't pretend it's there to back me up. I also haven't raced all season.
But if I can accept running the Toad at least 15 minutes slower this year, I should be physically able to complete it. Here's hoping I can show up mentally. And enjoy it for what it is.
Today's plan: a short run after supper. Or a hot yoga class to stretch out. I'm missing that too, in my training. It might be more beneficial than a run, today, frankly.
Two years ago in August I had the brilliant idea that I wanted to complete a triathlon. Amazingly, I achieved the goal in less than a year, despite having to learn how to swim. Two summers later, I love swimming.
July was all about swimming. I'm hoping to continue swimming at least a few times this week, in the outdoor pool, and lots next week, in a lake (which is a very different experience). Because it doesn't involve the same pounding that running does, I can do it every day. I'm not so sure about running every day.
But I discovered something, reading about those Olympic marathoners and 5,000/10,000 metre specialists: they run not just every day, but three times a day. Yipes. I'll bet that would make me faster ... or injure me in the process. And I can't possibly devote that kind of time to the pursuit of speed, not at this late date in my athletic life. I'm not exactly in my prime anymore.
This past week, my goal was to run every other day. I started last Saturday with the 35 minute treadmill run. Monday I ran 10km in a respectable 52 minutes (respectable, but not especially fast for me.) Then I ran Tuesday (oops), 5km, brutal. I'd just eaten supper, and thought I was going to throw up. Not pretty. Not fast either. Got up the next morning, Wednesday, and ran 9km with my friend (we always go slowly, for which I was truly grateful). A few hours later, I swam 1600m at the pool, and felt terrific, not at all tired and achy, which surprised me. Bouyancy, I guess. Then I subbed in my spin/kettlebell class on Thursday, ran out of time to squeeze in a run on Friday, and instead got up early on Saturday and ran 16km. I didn't even let myself think about it in advance, just got up, put on running clothes, ate banana, took a drink along, and went out. I told my husband I'd be going 10-12km, because that was all I could bear to think of running myself.
And then I got going. And then 16km seemed pretty manageable. In fact, I was quite sure I could have run a half-marathon distance without harming myself. That said, the pounding on my joints feels greater, lately, than I remember it feeling last summer when I was training for distance, and I wonder: is it age? Is it just that I've forgotten how the pounding feels? Is it having been injured? I wonder whether I read my body's signals differently post-injury. A bit of fear added in, somehow.
In any case, I was thrilled to have gone 16km. And I played my soccer game yesterday without ill effect. I didn't fatigued or worn out in the least.
Soccer has changed my training, a bit. I've been hesitant to do long runs the day before a soccer game (which is a long run in and of itself -- 90 minutes of interval training, essentially, tons of sprints, and movement up and down the field). But on Saturday I decided just to train for today, not worry about tomorrow. I need to maintain that mentality and get out for more long runs. I think if I can get a couple around 20km, and continue running at least five times a week, I'll be able to complete the Run for the Toad at the end of September. The only issue will be me giving myself permission to complete it in a slower time than last year's. There is no way I can duplicate the kind of training I'd done going into last year's race, mainly because I lost out on the winter training due to the hip injury, and I can't pretend it's there to back me up. I also haven't raced all season.
But if I can accept running the Toad at least 15 minutes slower this year, I should be physically able to complete it. Here's hoping I can show up mentally. And enjoy it for what it is.
Today's plan: a short run after supper. Or a hot yoga class to stretch out. I'm missing that too, in my training. It might be more beneficial than a run, today, frankly.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Ego boost and ego bust
I had a never-before-experienced moment on Saturday evening. We were staying in a hotel for my daughter's soccer tournament. We'd spent the entire day waiting, pacing, watching, sitting beside soccer fields, ie. zero exercise. It was brutally hot anyway. I'd brought my running gear but decided to wait til the evening and run on a treadmill at the hotel.
I was the only person in the exercise room. I have no idea how far or fast I ran because it seemed to be in miles. All I know is that it felt fabulous to run off all that angst and anxiety and restlessness, and that I kept pushing the button to go faster. At the end I ran a few intervals, fast, then slow, then fast, then slow. I was pouring with sweat when I stepped off the machine.
I walked to the elevator with another woman and her two children, who were coming from the pool. She said, "You look like you've come from a sauna."
"Nope. Just went for a fast run," I told her. I was feeling a little self-conscious, as I always do when I'm pouring sweat in my exercise clothes. (This situation happens to me often at soccer practice, and I always take care to stand a small distance away from other parents, because, frankly, what I need is a shower.)
On the elevator, she said, "Do you run a lot then?"
"Yes," I said. "I swim too." I almost added "and I swing weights around once a week, and sometimes do spin class," but I didn't want to sound like an exercise maniac.
"That must be how you got this fabulous body," she said. "You have a fabulous body!"
The women's heptathlon went on Saturday. Now those women--they have fabulous bodies. I would trade bodies with them. Who wouldn't want Jessica Zelinka's abs? But I must say that it was quite an ego boost. Out of the blue, being complimented on my body, which is not a fashion model body by any means -- it's strong and muscular. That was quite the ego boost.
In the ego busting section, despite having worked my body into what looks like its athletic prime, I can't seem to run any faster. Why??? I'm working so hard! Sometimes I think my body is a bit of a fake-out for anyone looking on. I look faster and stronger than I actually am. Here's the thing. I didn't start this project to look fabulous. I started it to become an athlete. That's still my goal.
After the success of the swimming experiment, I've decided to start laying on some miles. I plan to run every other day for the next couple of weeks, in hopes that it boosts my fitness in that regard. Otherwise, I can write off the chance to run that 25km trail run in less than eight weeks ...
I was the only person in the exercise room. I have no idea how far or fast I ran because it seemed to be in miles. All I know is that it felt fabulous to run off all that angst and anxiety and restlessness, and that I kept pushing the button to go faster. At the end I ran a few intervals, fast, then slow, then fast, then slow. I was pouring with sweat when I stepped off the machine.
I walked to the elevator with another woman and her two children, who were coming from the pool. She said, "You look like you've come from a sauna."
"Nope. Just went for a fast run," I told her. I was feeling a little self-conscious, as I always do when I'm pouring sweat in my exercise clothes. (This situation happens to me often at soccer practice, and I always take care to stand a small distance away from other parents, because, frankly, what I need is a shower.)
On the elevator, she said, "Do you run a lot then?"
"Yes," I said. "I swim too." I almost added "and I swing weights around once a week, and sometimes do spin class," but I didn't want to sound like an exercise maniac.
"That must be how you got this fabulous body," she said. "You have a fabulous body!"
The women's heptathlon went on Saturday. Now those women--they have fabulous bodies. I would trade bodies with them. Who wouldn't want Jessica Zelinka's abs? But I must say that it was quite an ego boost. Out of the blue, being complimented on my body, which is not a fashion model body by any means -- it's strong and muscular. That was quite the ego boost.
In the ego busting section, despite having worked my body into what looks like its athletic prime, I can't seem to run any faster. Why??? I'm working so hard! Sometimes I think my body is a bit of a fake-out for anyone looking on. I look faster and stronger than I actually am. Here's the thing. I didn't start this project to look fabulous. I started it to become an athlete. That's still my goal.
After the success of the swimming experiment, I've decided to start laying on some miles. I plan to run every other day for the next couple of weeks, in hopes that it boosts my fitness in that regard. Otherwise, I can write off the chance to run that 25km trail run in less than eight weeks ...
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Swim yourself fit
Just a quick note about swimming -- again!
The kids are done their swim lessons, but my husband and I have enjoyed swimming so much that we're keeping it going this week. Yesterday was our anniversary, so we met for a swim, and then went for lunch. We can't do that every day, but the swim portion took us about an hour, so we figure we can squeeze that in quite often. I plan to meet him again today for another swim.
Yesterday I tried out a new arm position on my pull. I've been watching the Olympic swimmers and noticed that they use a much deep pull than I've been using. So I tried going a bit deeper, with my elbows bent, yesterday, and it felt like I was getting a more powerful pull. I was definitely going faster too. I ploughed through my usual 1600m (which is all I've had time to do during the kids' swim lessons) almost too fast, and wished I'd gone to 2000m. That's my plan for today, assuming the arms hold out. It is more tiring, and uses the back muscles slightly differently.
I think as a method of bumping up my fitness, regardless of how fast I'm able to go, swimming every week day for the past three weeks has been fantastic. At soccer on Sunday, I was able to run and run and run. I didn't feel winded, and I still had sprints left in me even at the end of the game.
I haven't done a long run since that 18.5km a couple of weekends ago when I was seriously dehydrated and felt awful by the end. Instead I've been doing much shorter speed runs. On Thursday, I ended with a number of sprints up a hill. Fun. Seriously. I think that kind of training helps with my soccer fitness, and vice versa -- the soccer games themselves help with my ability to sprint and recover. If I could just find time to add in the long runs ...
Well, it's never perfect. But I've also been doing my strength and stretching stuff more regularly. Need to after soccer -- want to, in fact. Otherwise I'm stiff as a board. I got a new foam roller that I'm using to roll out my glutes and IT band. I make the most awful noises while rolling on there, plus I look totally awkward. Ah, fitness ....
The kids are done their swim lessons, but my husband and I have enjoyed swimming so much that we're keeping it going this week. Yesterday was our anniversary, so we met for a swim, and then went for lunch. We can't do that every day, but the swim portion took us about an hour, so we figure we can squeeze that in quite often. I plan to meet him again today for another swim.
Yesterday I tried out a new arm position on my pull. I've been watching the Olympic swimmers and noticed that they use a much deep pull than I've been using. So I tried going a bit deeper, with my elbows bent, yesterday, and it felt like I was getting a more powerful pull. I was definitely going faster too. I ploughed through my usual 1600m (which is all I've had time to do during the kids' swim lessons) almost too fast, and wished I'd gone to 2000m. That's my plan for today, assuming the arms hold out. It is more tiring, and uses the back muscles slightly differently.
I think as a method of bumping up my fitness, regardless of how fast I'm able to go, swimming every week day for the past three weeks has been fantastic. At soccer on Sunday, I was able to run and run and run. I didn't feel winded, and I still had sprints left in me even at the end of the game.
I haven't done a long run since that 18.5km a couple of weekends ago when I was seriously dehydrated and felt awful by the end. Instead I've been doing much shorter speed runs. On Thursday, I ended with a number of sprints up a hill. Fun. Seriously. I think that kind of training helps with my soccer fitness, and vice versa -- the soccer games themselves help with my ability to sprint and recover. If I could just find time to add in the long runs ...
Well, it's never perfect. But I've also been doing my strength and stretching stuff more regularly. Need to after soccer -- want to, in fact. Otherwise I'm stiff as a board. I got a new foam roller that I'm using to roll out my glutes and IT band. I make the most awful noises while rolling on there, plus I look totally awkward. Ah, fitness ....
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