My Sport Is: Life

In hindsight, it is a complete miracle that I made it to the gym on Saturday and even moreso that I even finished my mile-row-mile workout.  It is beyond my comprehension at the moment that I actually managed to beat last weekend’s times on all three ‘events’ for an overall time that was 1:25 faster than last weekend.

 Milerowmile 

You see, I’m saying “in hindsight” because while I was feeling tired and a bit achy on Saturday morning, the absolute hell that came on Saturday afternoon & Sunday makes me think I imagined ever feeling good enough to leave the house let alone do that workout!  I was sick and had a migraine and horrible cramps and nausea.  It was bad.  I napped for a total of 6 hours over the weekend in addition to my nighttime 10+ hours.  I don’t feel too bad this morning though, onwards and upwards!

 

When I was on the treadmill on Saturday I switched the personal TV on and was watching Premier League soccer.  Arsenal vs Some Other Team of Hot Muscular Athletic Men.  Soccer isn’t my thing, I’ve never played it and I don’t know the rules (nor do I care).  For some reason I like watching it while I’m running on Saturday mornings.  Whatever works, right?!

 

There was a personal trainer working with a client right behind me on the rowers and when I transitioned from treadmill to rower the three of us chatted for a second and the guy that was being trained asked me if soccer was my sport.  I just laughed and said no and made some comment about the fact that watching hot men running around distracts me from the pain of my own workout.   

 

Being that a workout such as this is more a mental battle than physical, I try to think about anything other than the amount of pain I’m in and so I got thinking about what my “sport” is.  It used to be running….for years after I lost the weight it was what I did.  It’s not anymore.  I lift weights but I can’t really say that’s my “sport” either.  I was very committed to indoor and outdoor cycling for a few months but I don’t really do that anymore.  So what is my sport?  Why do I do these crazy cardio workouts and get up at 4am and lift heavy things? 

 

My sport is life.  Life is hard and sweaty and uncomfortable sometimes.  I think pushing yourself and learning to zap the negative and pushing your limits and discomfort teaches you about yourself.  It shows you your strength, grows your determination and lets you set new benchmarks for yourself.  In my second mile on Saturday I did a little self talk test.  In the back half of the second mile I was hurting and gassed.  While I was running I was saying the words “stop, stop, stop”.  And it became harder and harder for my legs to keep going and for my breathing to keep up.  I then turned it around and yelled in my head “go, go, go!” and I kid you not, the running became less difficult (not easier, it was still killing me!).  I tried it a couple of times after that with the same results.  The negative, stop now talk actually seems to send signals to the rest of your body and tries to get it to stop.  The positive, go talk propels you along!  Go figure!  It actually worked well enough that in the last tenth of a mile (about one minute), I cranked the speed up to 6.5mph and ran.  I did it because I needed the workout to be over NOW but also because I was telling myself to go-go-go!

Sweat

I’m looking forward to the gym tomorrow morning, I got a new pair of workout tights (thanks Ray, constant bitching about having to handwash the falling-apart-ones worked!), made some Paleo Morning Glory muffins for pre-gym fuel (yam, carrot, walnuts, raisins, honey, almond flour, egg & cinnamon) and I made a new playlist on my shuffle.  What’s not to be excited about!  Plus, this will be the first time in a very long time (or forever, maybe?) that I’ll be at my gym in the morning getting my sweat on and my sister will be at her gym at the same time getting her own sweat on!

The sun is shining here right now and for the rest of today, I’m damn near ecstatic about it!

 

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