Note:

This blog is now retired. My new site is at: Predictably Irrational.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Depleted

"Depleted": that may be a little bit of exaggeration regarding how I feel physically, but it is pretty close.

In the past two weeks, I have started a new routine which ends up as a 'two-a-day' workout routine.

And while I can whine and try to show some humbleness about this 'aw, it's nothing'...it really is *something*.

I am in pretty darn good shape. Barring the GI issue that seems to keep my belly in a constant bloated state (yes, TMI, but it's another issue that may be addressed in a blog post), I have been in the best shape EVER. And I am FORTY-FUCKING years old :). I love it! And I want to stay this way.

But, alas, my body is not actually _used_ to this. So no matter how cocky I get in my head ("I am the WO-man! Here me roar!"), my body will not GO when it does not want to go.

Granted, I'm in enough shape that GO is pretty good.

Yesterday, I ran with hubby. We did the 5.5 mile loop that goes through Umstead State Park. The route is relatively rough, but I would argue that the clockwise route is twice as hard as the counter-clockwise route. Tim and I did the counter-clockwise route.

Yesterday's routine for me? Morning was the nearly 1 hour and 40 minute Yoga X routine from P90X. This MFer is hard. The first 40 minutes consists of non-stop flow with vinyasas at every bit. I could already sense how much more tired I was doing this yesterday than the week before.

My next workout of the day? A 4-5 mile run. I was cocky enough to think I could tackle the 5.5 mile loop.

So off we go and I'm doing OK until the first hill, which is barely a 1/4 mile into the run. Uh-oh. My legs are feeling kind of shaky. And not only that, in my excitement to meet Tim for the run, I realized that the only food I had to fuel me up for this run was two PB toasts from 7:30 AM (run was @ noon). Normally, I have more food between PB toast and running.

And it was HOT. The sun was just burning into my skin. I had no hat. No fuel belt. Again, I wasn't tormented by that too much. Tim brought water and would offer me water every so often, which I denied.

But once we got into Umstead, he stopped and demanded I drink water. Little did he know, I was going to do that...

We continued running and I was really zonked in the legs. I kept a good pace (reminder: in good shape :)) but when I got to the spillway, I told Tim "I'm walking this".

And man-oh-man, that wasn't pleasant either!! Imagine running in such hot humid heat, where you can get a little wind from just running...and then STOPPING in the middle of direct sunlight? It is not a good thing.

I was hot as hell. My feet were fucking hot. Need I remind anyone who reads my posts how much I HATE THAT? I handled it well (I think I am mellowing in my old age :)). Tim's one bottle of water was looking like a rare jewel that I wanted for myself. I wanted to pour it onto my head and to my feet and into my mouth. But I didn't and conservatively took a sip and gave it back.

The walk up the spillway, AKA "half mile hill", was long and hot. There was no shade. And I had nothing in me, even mentally, to do anything remotely close to a jog to get up it and get it over with.

In fact, once at the top, I offered to run DOWN the remaining down part until the next hill (which I hate more than half mile hill) but since Tim offered 'I don't mind walking; I'll probably do a lot of that on Saturday' (he has an adventure race scheduled), I took advantage of it and said I had no ego that day and I was walking it.

What a trooper he was. We continued until we got to Harrison Avenue where we broke back into a run. I could do it but man, it didn't feel good.

And as usual, I get those weird smirks, smiles, and comments about how sweaty I am. Hello? It's fucking hot and I just ran (with that long walk break) 5.5 miles, thankyouverymuch.

And I happen to be a really bad sweat-er...especially for a girl.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so impressed by you! In a side note...while I'm not a runner, I think of you now every time my feet are hot. "Cindy would hate this!" :) Ok, I know it's different than what you experience, but I think of you nonetheless.

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