After commencing my training program with all the finesse of a rhinoceros, I tentatively stepped into week 2 reminding myself not to get carried away. After all, this isn’t a sprint. And thank goodness for that, because after seeing what my sprinting legs had in them, I was in for a rather rude awakening!
Week 2: Entered into feeling pumped and ready for some harder sessions.
Monday saw a weights session at the gym, but it was short and fleeting. Spending the morning working and the afternoon driving the kids around doesn’t leave much time for a long session of anything.
Tuesday was just as busy, and when Shaun and I finally managed to leave the house and head for the gym it was 5pm. With kids in tow and a swimming session lined up, we got them in their swimming togs too and stuck them in the pool with us. We didn’t have many options. We had to fit in a session, so arming them with boards for kicking, we set them adrift on the edge of our lane and the 4 of us went about our evening training. Despite the distraction of having them darting in between us and playing porpoise in the pool, we had a great session. It was fun with the kids, and it takes the seriousness out of the training, which I always enjoy! Stopping for a hug and a smile reminds me what’s most important.
Wednesday was biking. First day back in the saddle since the Argus in March! It hurt. My muscles weren’t accustomed to the churning of the peddles and the hill sprints left me doubting why on earth I was undertaking all of this. Every time I watched Shaun shoot off ahead of me on a sprint I cursed that I wasn’t a male. It’s frustrating to always be left in his wake, even when I am training as much as he is. I cannot compete with my husband – he is a poor choice in competition partner. But I can’t help myself. I’m constantly comparing apples with pears.
Thursday I hit the gym hard, doing a weights class that leaves me with the distinct impression that I have legs made out of jello. The instructor (think Demi Moore in G.I. Jane) leaves no muscle un-touched and walking down the stairs after her class is always undertaken with much care and attention, lest my legs crumple beneath me. Unless you’ve been in this position yourself it’s hard to comprehend the exhaustion you are faced with when doing something as mundane as washing your hair. I had to assume a position with my head somewhere near my naval so my hands only had to reach shoulder height to accomplish the task.
Friday. Rest day. I needed it.
Saturday had me ambling around the school field for the kids mini-walk at school. I can hardly call 2km’s training, but I suppose it was a bit of a leg-loosener, and in Shaun’s wise words, your body only gets stronger when you rest it.
Sunday was run day and it was awesome! I hit the hills for a bit of stamina and endurance training, and I sang my way through 15km’s before meeting the family at the beach for a leg icing session in Llandudno’s frigid waters.
Thoughts on conclusion of Week 2: I’ve got to own that I’m female, and forget the injustice of having to train twice as hard to go the same speed as a male. I have hips, boobs and significantly less testosterone. I’ve got to be proud of my own times; I’m doing this race for me.
