Most weeks are pretty predictable in terms of their activities and their level of stress and busy-ness. During predictable weeks, getting my exercise in is half about pure enjoyment and half about staying healthy. I love working out and I am happy to make time every day to do it.
This week and next are NOT typical weeks. Here's the story. Three years ago, it was decided at work that we would organize staff training weeks. Two weeks, back to back, where we would offer a lot of the mandatory training that all employees require (First Aid, CPR, Non-Violent Crisis Intervention, rights training etc). We would also offer training that, while not mandatory, would certainly be beneficial for everyone. The idea was that we would create two identical weeks of training. Half of the staff would attend the first week. The other half would attend the second. It allowed us to train a lot of people very quickly. It allowed people from different programs to have a chance to mingle and share ideas. It allowed us to keep all of our programs running during the training. It was, and is, a really good idea.
The task of planning these weeks fell squarely on my shoulders. Creating the schedule, booking the trainers, planning and running full and half day sessions myself, planning meals, conducting evaluations and dealing with unexpected events (can you say blizzard?). It was a lot of work and ended up being really stressful to coordinate (again - blizzard).
The first year, I was pretty stressed. In fact, it was one of the most stressed times in recent memory. I woke up on the morning of the first day to discover that several blood vessels had burst in my right eye. One of the staff, a nurse, promptly announced that it was due to stress and said it would go away in a few days. It did but, in the meantime, I looked like I had been in a nasty fight. I also, by about day three, caught a nasty cold which made presenting for 8 hours straight a bit of a challenge.
I decided that I never wanted to be that stressed again. Particularly about something work-related like that.
Year two, it was a lot better because I knew more what to expect. I had worked out a lot of the kinks the year before but it was still pretty overwhelming and exhausting.
We're now into week one of year three. This year, I am determined to take care of myself so I can finish the ten days feeling sane and relatively rested.
That's where exercise comes in. Normally, I would lapse in my fitness routine in an effort to conserve energy. Sacrifice the workouts so I could keep my energy for the training days. What I found was that I did not get more rest or sleep by not exercising - all I did was fill the hours I would normally be exercising with something else I had to do. So I was stressed, tired and feeling decidedly unfit by the end. On top of that, we sit around a lot during training weeks so my blood sugar tends to climb due to lack of activity. Not good.
My fitness routine, which normally keeps my happy and healthy, will, for the next two weeks, help keep me sane and grounded.
Monday morning, I was at the pool at 6am. I still had a lot to do before 9am and I was facing a long day of training. It was tempting to get an extra hour of sleep. Instead I chose to swim 80 lengths and am very glad I did. I felt energized all day - there was no mid-afternoon slump - and my blood sugar ran a little higher than normal but not the usual craziness that comes from sitting all day.
So Monday, Wednesday and Friday - I'll be at the pool the moment it opens. Tuesday and Thursday - I'll look forward to a run right after work. Repeat again next week and I will have survived my third annual staff training weeks.
Bring it on!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Ian's Angels
During the winter months, Doug and I curl on Friday nights. It's a fun evening because we get to spend time together, get to see our friends, get to play against a different team every week and enjoy a little friendly competition.
If we win - yay! If we lose, the other team buys me a glass of red wine. So really, what's not to like?
Last year was my first time curling - ever. Doug has been curling for over twenty years so he's, to put it mildly, pretty damn good. He plays on Thursdays in a competitive league. Friday is more of a social thing - mostly couples. So we convinced Janice and Chris to join us and we formed a team of curling runners. Or running curlers? We had lots of fun and learned the basics quickly enough that we were actually able to hold our own against teams that had been playing for a few years already. It does, of course, help that our skip is talented enough to be able to clean up the mess of rocks we leave for him.
Now we're in our second year and we've recruited four more players. Benny and Leslie play on Chris and Janice's team. Klari and Steve play on ours.
Last Friday, we were scheduled to play against Chris and Janice's team. It was bound to happen eventually since you play against every team at some point. It just so happened that Klari and Steve were away so we decided to shake things up a bit. Doug recruited Ian (from his Thursday night team). Doug, Chris and Benny formed one team. Janice, Leslie and I formed the other, with Ian as our skip.
Essentially, it was boys against the girls (plus Ian).
The first end the ice was really slow and we could hardly get our rocks across the ice. Our aim was off and we really didn't throw well at all. The boys handily took two points and we girls braced ourselves for what we thought was going to be a pretty painful evening.
The second end, we were down to the last rock. Three of our rocks were in the house but only one was counting because the boys had a rock in there too. Ian was going to throw a safe shot and try to get two points. Janice suggested he be a little more aggressive and try to knock the boys' rock right out. So he tried - and succeeded! We got four points.
In the third end, we all threw some amazing shots. Ian threw a zinger of a rock to clear the house and we ended up taking four more points. The game was now 8:2 for the ladies.
The boys were not impressed.
We only got one point in the fourth end - making it 9:2.
They got one in the fifth - 9:3.
We got a final point in the sixth and won the game!
It was fun of course because we played so well but it was also a great night because we switched things up. We played with different players and got to watch our significant others in action. We don't usually get to see that because, when we're not throwing, we're busy sweeping their rocks to actually watch them play.
When I agreed to try curling last year - I figured it would be a fun way to spend an evening.
It is.
But I had no idea how much I would grow to love the game.
If we win - yay! If we lose, the other team buys me a glass of red wine. So really, what's not to like?
Last year was my first time curling - ever. Doug has been curling for over twenty years so he's, to put it mildly, pretty damn good. He plays on Thursdays in a competitive league. Friday is more of a social thing - mostly couples. So we convinced Janice and Chris to join us and we formed a team of curling runners. Or running curlers? We had lots of fun and learned the basics quickly enough that we were actually able to hold our own against teams that had been playing for a few years already. It does, of course, help that our skip is talented enough to be able to clean up the mess of rocks we leave for him.
Now we're in our second year and we've recruited four more players. Benny and Leslie play on Chris and Janice's team. Klari and Steve play on ours.
Last Friday, we were scheduled to play against Chris and Janice's team. It was bound to happen eventually since you play against every team at some point. It just so happened that Klari and Steve were away so we decided to shake things up a bit. Doug recruited Ian (from his Thursday night team). Doug, Chris and Benny formed one team. Janice, Leslie and I formed the other, with Ian as our skip.
Essentially, it was boys against the girls (plus Ian).
Ian's Angels we called ourselves.
The second end, we were down to the last rock. Three of our rocks were in the house but only one was counting because the boys had a rock in there too. Ian was going to throw a safe shot and try to get two points. Janice suggested he be a little more aggressive and try to knock the boys' rock right out. So he tried - and succeeded! We got four points.
In the third end, we all threw some amazing shots. Ian threw a zinger of a rock to clear the house and we ended up taking four more points. The game was now 8:2 for the ladies.
The boys were not impressed.
We only got one point in the fourth end - making it 9:2.
They got one in the fifth - 9:3.
We got a final point in the sixth and won the game!
It was fun of course because we played so well but it was also a great night because we switched things up. We played with different players and got to watch our significant others in action. We don't usually get to see that because, when we're not throwing, we're busy sweeping their rocks to actually watch them play.
When I agreed to try curling last year - I figured it would be a fun way to spend an evening.
It is.
But I had no idea how much I would grow to love the game.
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Pain Perception
I don't think it's a prerequisite that athletes have the ability to handle pain...but it sure does help.
If nothing else, they had better get used to some pretty major discomfort. Particularly if they're going to take up a sport like running. Running hurts. So do the massages and chiropractic appointments that keep runners upright and moving forward.
When I was running full speed ahead last year - training for Around the Bay and then the marathon - I got pretty used to pain. I was seeing either Janice and Geoff every second week and trust me when I tell you that there was a lot of tears and nausea as I clung to the bed in agony. In fact, I once suggested to Janice that she put a little barf bucket under the hole in the headrest of her massage table...just in case. She never did and, so far, I've never needed one. But it's come close a few times.
During last year's running madness I also got used to shin pain. I learned to recognize when things were tight but ok. I learned the pain that told me to ease off because I was on the edge of shin splints and, most importantly, I learned the pain of shin splints telling me to take time off and call Geoff - again.
I was also pretty shocked when I was introduced to the unforgettable pain of a stress fracture.
So yep, I know pain.
On top of that, having Type 1 diabetes means that I am keenly aware of how I'm feeling pretty much all the time. As I sit on the couch typing this blog, I have ice packs on my calves, I am listening for the laundry to know when it's done, I am sipping my red wine and composing my story of the day. Despite all of these distractions, there is always (and I mean always) a part of me that is checking in to see how I'm feeling. How's my sugar? Am I climbing after dinner? Crashing after my run? Am I yawning because I'm tired? Because I'm low? High?
So to recap, I am usually very aware of how my body is feeling at any given moment and I've learned to identify and put up with a whole variety of pain options.
Now on the to the point of my story.
Last week I went to see Janice. I've been going to her every four to five weeks rather than every two since I wasn't running and my legs really needed some down time to heal. She started working on my calves and I was shocked at how much they hurt. I mean really hurt.
To be honest, I was pretty disappointed. I had worked so hard to keep my calves loose and limber and there they were feeling like rocks. I said as much to Janice and she said that they were actually surprisingly loose. Better than she had felt in a long long time.
Well, that's good - so why the pain?!?
Well, she said, probably because it's been so long since you've had a massage or pushed those muscles that that they are no longer used to hurting.
Bloody hell!
I knew I had to rebuild my leg strength and my running endurance after ten weeks off. No one told me I'd have to rebuild my pain tolerance too.
If nothing else, they had better get used to some pretty major discomfort. Particularly if they're going to take up a sport like running. Running hurts. So do the massages and chiropractic appointments that keep runners upright and moving forward.
When I was running full speed ahead last year - training for Around the Bay and then the marathon - I got pretty used to pain. I was seeing either Janice and Geoff every second week and trust me when I tell you that there was a lot of tears and nausea as I clung to the bed in agony. In fact, I once suggested to Janice that she put a little barf bucket under the hole in the headrest of her massage table...just in case. She never did and, so far, I've never needed one. But it's come close a few times.
During last year's running madness I also got used to shin pain. I learned to recognize when things were tight but ok. I learned the pain that told me to ease off because I was on the edge of shin splints and, most importantly, I learned the pain of shin splints telling me to take time off and call Geoff - again.
I was also pretty shocked when I was introduced to the unforgettable pain of a stress fracture.
So yep, I know pain.
On top of that, having Type 1 diabetes means that I am keenly aware of how I'm feeling pretty much all the time. As I sit on the couch typing this blog, I have ice packs on my calves, I am listening for the laundry to know when it's done, I am sipping my red wine and composing my story of the day. Despite all of these distractions, there is always (and I mean always) a part of me that is checking in to see how I'm feeling. How's my sugar? Am I climbing after dinner? Crashing after my run? Am I yawning because I'm tired? Because I'm low? High?
So to recap, I am usually very aware of how my body is feeling at any given moment and I've learned to identify and put up with a whole variety of pain options.
Now on the to the point of my story.
Last week I went to see Janice. I've been going to her every four to five weeks rather than every two since I wasn't running and my legs really needed some down time to heal. She started working on my calves and I was shocked at how much they hurt. I mean really hurt.
To be honest, I was pretty disappointed. I had worked so hard to keep my calves loose and limber and there they were feeling like rocks. I said as much to Janice and she said that they were actually surprisingly loose. Better than she had felt in a long long time.
Well, that's good - so why the pain?!?
Well, she said, probably because it's been so long since you've had a massage or pushed those muscles that that they are no longer used to hurting.
Bloody hell!
I knew I had to rebuild my leg strength and my running endurance after ten weeks off. No one told me I'd have to rebuild my pain tolerance too.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
My Feet
During the month of December I went for two pedicures. Ok, fine! It was two mani/pedis if you really must know.
Typing that feels like some sort of confession...
Anyway, the first was the night before my sister Gabrielle's wedding. My other sister, Geneviève, and I went for manicures and pedicures and, while the lovely ladies pushed back our cuticles and massages our calves, we wrote our speech for the wedding.
Not that you really need to know this but the colour I chose for the wedding was fire engine red (very festive and it worked well with my silver sandals).
The second time I went was with my mother. It was the day before Doug and I headed to New York and a few days before my parents headed to Israel for wedding number two. I felt the need to look at least 10% glamourous before heading to the Big Apple and my mother wanted nice toenails for the beach. This time, I chose a dark purple colour called Lincoln Park After Dark. I chose it 40% for the colour and 60% for the name.
Anyway, the whole point about this story is that I apparently have very nice feet.
Normally, when one goes for a pedicure, they fill a foot bath full of hot water and soak your feet in it. Then they cut and shape your toenails and work on the cuticles for a while. The last step is to work on your calluses. I've seen some ladies squirming in pain (or perhaps they're just very ticklish?) while their calluses are vigorously rubbed off. I've seen other ladies sit immobile as a razor is taken to their feet to remove all the dead skin.
The first time I was there, I witnessed the razor thing. I decided then and there to refuse that option because a) that's just plain crazy and b) I don't think taking a razor to a person with diabetes' feet is a really good idea.
When the lady lifted my foot to look underneath, her eyebrows raised in shock. "You have really good feet!" she exclaimed.
Ummmm, thanks?
The second and third time I went, I got the same shocked reaction. Apparently my feet, which I took as normal since they're the only feet I've ever known, are not all that typical after all.
Despite years of running and virtual lack of care (I wash them in the shower and that's pretty much it), they have no calluses, no blisters, no hard skin to exfoliate.
So, while the other ladies around me writhe in pain or squirm with giggles as their feet are exfoliated, razored and buffed to a shine, I get an extra long calf massage and a "you have really good feet!".
Perhaps I should ask for a discount?
Typing that feels like some sort of confession...
Anyway, the first was the night before my sister Gabrielle's wedding. My other sister, Geneviève, and I went for manicures and pedicures and, while the lovely ladies pushed back our cuticles and massages our calves, we wrote our speech for the wedding.
Not that you really need to know this but the colour I chose for the wedding was fire engine red (very festive and it worked well with my silver sandals).
The second time I went was with my mother. It was the day before Doug and I headed to New York and a few days before my parents headed to Israel for wedding number two. I felt the need to look at least 10% glamourous before heading to the Big Apple and my mother wanted nice toenails for the beach. This time, I chose a dark purple colour called Lincoln Park After Dark. I chose it 40% for the colour and 60% for the name.
Anyway, the whole point about this story is that I apparently have very nice feet.
Normally, when one goes for a pedicure, they fill a foot bath full of hot water and soak your feet in it. Then they cut and shape your toenails and work on the cuticles for a while. The last step is to work on your calluses. I've seen some ladies squirming in pain (or perhaps they're just very ticklish?) while their calluses are vigorously rubbed off. I've seen other ladies sit immobile as a razor is taken to their feet to remove all the dead skin.
The first time I was there, I witnessed the razor thing. I decided then and there to refuse that option because a) that's just plain crazy and b) I don't think taking a razor to a person with diabetes' feet is a really good idea.
When the lady lifted my foot to look underneath, her eyebrows raised in shock. "You have really good feet!" she exclaimed.
Ummmm, thanks?
The second and third time I went, I got the same shocked reaction. Apparently my feet, which I took as normal since they're the only feet I've ever known, are not all that typical after all.
Despite years of running and virtual lack of care (I wash them in the shower and that's pretty much it), they have no calluses, no blisters, no hard skin to exfoliate.
So, while the other ladies around me writhe in pain or squirm with giggles as their feet are exfoliated, razored and buffed to a shine, I get an extra long calf massage and a "you have really good feet!".
Perhaps I should ask for a discount?
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
My Juggling Act
Life gets crazy sometimes. There is no one I talk to these days who isn't overly busy, slightly frazzled and juggling one too many things. I don't know about you folks but I can only keep so many balls in the air at any given time.
Some of those balls I refuse to put down. Taking care of my physical health, my mental health and my diabetes are things that I refuse to compromise. No matter what. So those balls keep getting tossed into the air. Even when other things are vying for my attention.
Other things must compete for their chance to fly. I love reading books but don't always have time for it. So I go through times when I'm taking out four or five books from the library on a Saturday morning and spending and hour or two each day devouring them. After a few weeks of this I realize that, with all my reading, I've neglected my photography so I put down my books, drag out my camera and head out on a few photo shoots.
As I'm importing my photos I realize that it's been a little too long since I've backed up my photos on my laptop so I spent every evening for a week doing backups and clearing out my hard drive.
When I'm training for a long-distance race, reading and photography get put aside because there just isn't time for everything.
The same thing happens with friends and family. I saw a lot of my family during the months of November and December. Between weddings, showers, funerals, Christmas and holidays - I saw my family every second or third day for two months. It was wonderful to have so much time with everyone but it really didn't leave any time for friends. It was just too crazy.
Christmas is over. My sisters are back in Israel and Toronto and family time has settled back into the regular Sunday night dinner routine. That means it's time to reconnect with friends I haven't talked to in a few months. I emailed my old university friend this week and we discovered that we're both free on Saturday. We're meeting up for lunch so we can catch up on the last few months, share stories and just enjoy each others' company for a few hours. Fun!
The next email goes out tonight to my two high school girlfriends. We see each other a few times a year. It usually takes an email from me to get the ball rolling but, once it starts, we get all excited planning a dinner somewhere between Niagara and Toronto so we can get caught up on everything we missed.
It's wonderful to have friendships like that. They wax and wane during the busy times but we always find each other again and, when we get together, it feels like no time at all has passed. Friendships like that are unconditional. No questions asked about why it took so long to email. No questions asked about why we didn't wish them happy birthday until two days after their birthday. There is only happiness when we connect and find the time to get together for a few hours or for the day.
To have such a strong bond of friendship that it survives distance and time apart is a gift and I am so lucky to have friends that have been there for decades. Through marriage, divorce, children, breakups, deaths - they are there for me. Just like I'm there for them.
Come what may.
Some of those balls I refuse to put down. Taking care of my physical health, my mental health and my diabetes are things that I refuse to compromise. No matter what. So those balls keep getting tossed into the air. Even when other things are vying for my attention.
Other things must compete for their chance to fly. I love reading books but don't always have time for it. So I go through times when I'm taking out four or five books from the library on a Saturday morning and spending and hour or two each day devouring them. After a few weeks of this I realize that, with all my reading, I've neglected my photography so I put down my books, drag out my camera and head out on a few photo shoots.
As I'm importing my photos I realize that it's been a little too long since I've backed up my photos on my laptop so I spent every evening for a week doing backups and clearing out my hard drive.
When I'm training for a long-distance race, reading and photography get put aside because there just isn't time for everything.
The same thing happens with friends and family. I saw a lot of my family during the months of November and December. Between weddings, showers, funerals, Christmas and holidays - I saw my family every second or third day for two months. It was wonderful to have so much time with everyone but it really didn't leave any time for friends. It was just too crazy.
Christmas is over. My sisters are back in Israel and Toronto and family time has settled back into the regular Sunday night dinner routine. That means it's time to reconnect with friends I haven't talked to in a few months. I emailed my old university friend this week and we discovered that we're both free on Saturday. We're meeting up for lunch so we can catch up on the last few months, share stories and just enjoy each others' company for a few hours. Fun!
The next email goes out tonight to my two high school girlfriends. We see each other a few times a year. It usually takes an email from me to get the ball rolling but, once it starts, we get all excited planning a dinner somewhere between Niagara and Toronto so we can get caught up on everything we missed.
It's wonderful to have friendships like that. They wax and wane during the busy times but we always find each other again and, when we get together, it feels like no time at all has passed. Friendships like that are unconditional. No questions asked about why it took so long to email. No questions asked about why we didn't wish them happy birthday until two days after their birthday. There is only happiness when we connect and find the time to get together for a few hours or for the day.
To have such a strong bond of friendship that it survives distance and time apart is a gift and I am so lucky to have friends that have been there for decades. Through marriage, divorce, children, breakups, deaths - they are there for me. Just like I'm there for them.
Come what may.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Six Days
Six days is the magic number. That's how I know I'm doing ok and taking good care of myself.
Some people know that they're doing well when they get enough sleep and feel rested. Other people know when they drink enough water and feel hydrated. Or when the don't get sick. I know I'm doing well when it's six days between insertion site changes.
When I first got my pump, I would change my site every three days (dutifully) because that's what I was told to do. Then I clued in that I still had a day's worth of insulin left in the pump. Changing my pump site before the insulin ran out seemed wasteful so I pushed it to four days. That's where I stayed for the first two years. Four days. Sometimes four and a half. The odd time, I would last five days.
During the last 6 months or so, I noticed that I was lasting longer and longer before I ran out of insulin. That was also the same time that I was losing weight. Ten pounds down - I figured my body just required less insulin - which is at least partly true. But really? Ten pounds = two extra days between site changes?
Last fall I went from four to six days before I my pump ran dry. That's a huge jump in terms of insulin use. I have been consistently lasting six days for months now. I'm talking six days right down to the hour. I change it in the morning before I go to work. If I change the site on a Monday morning, I can bet $$ that I'll change it on a Sunday morning the next week. Then a Saturday morning the next. Clockwork.
During these last few months, not only have I maintained my weight loss but I've also kept to a pretty predictable schedule in terms of eating and exercise.
Last week, for the first time in a while, I only lasted five days. One day less means that I used a heck of a lot more insulin. That means that a) I was eating a whole lot more food, b) I was eating a lot of high carb foods (desserts etc) or c) I had a lot of high blood sugars that needed insulin to come back down. None of those options are good in my books.
This week, I lasted 6 1/2 days. I can also confirm that I ate well, at consistent times and consistent amounts. I can confirm that I didn't have too many highs and (other than one crazy day post-period) I didn't have too many lows either (which often lead to rebound highs which require more insulin).
Even though I may feel my best when I eat well, get to bed at a decent time and exercise regularly, the best proof I have that I'm taking good care of myself is when I last six days between pump changes.
Some people know that they're doing well when they get enough sleep and feel rested. Other people know when they drink enough water and feel hydrated. Or when the don't get sick. I know I'm doing well when it's six days between insertion site changes.
When I first got my pump, I would change my site every three days (dutifully) because that's what I was told to do. Then I clued in that I still had a day's worth of insulin left in the pump. Changing my pump site before the insulin ran out seemed wasteful so I pushed it to four days. That's where I stayed for the first two years. Four days. Sometimes four and a half. The odd time, I would last five days.
During the last 6 months or so, I noticed that I was lasting longer and longer before I ran out of insulin. That was also the same time that I was losing weight. Ten pounds down - I figured my body just required less insulin - which is at least partly true. But really? Ten pounds = two extra days between site changes?
Last fall I went from four to six days before I my pump ran dry. That's a huge jump in terms of insulin use. I have been consistently lasting six days for months now. I'm talking six days right down to the hour. I change it in the morning before I go to work. If I change the site on a Monday morning, I can bet $$ that I'll change it on a Sunday morning the next week. Then a Saturday morning the next. Clockwork.
During these last few months, not only have I maintained my weight loss but I've also kept to a pretty predictable schedule in terms of eating and exercise.
Last week, for the first time in a while, I only lasted five days. One day less means that I used a heck of a lot more insulin. That means that a) I was eating a whole lot more food, b) I was eating a lot of high carb foods (desserts etc) or c) I had a lot of high blood sugars that needed insulin to come back down. None of those options are good in my books.
This week, I lasted 6 1/2 days. I can also confirm that I ate well, at consistent times and consistent amounts. I can confirm that I didn't have too many highs and (other than one crazy day post-period) I didn't have too many lows either (which often lead to rebound highs which require more insulin).
Even though I may feel my best when I eat well, get to bed at a decent time and exercise regularly, the best proof I have that I'm taking good care of myself is when I last six days between pump changes.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Just Like Riding A Bike
On Friday night, two of the members of our curling team were in Florida so Erika and Perry were kind enough to fill in. Erika threw first, I was second, Perry was vice and Doug skipped. We had a scary first end (lost three points) and we all thought "uh oh, this is NOT going to go well". Then we took two points in the second end, another few in the third and then we went back and forth giving and taking points. The last end we were up by one and managed to take another for a satisfying win! Yay us.
After a curling game, the winning team buys the losing team their first drink. We all sit together and get to know each other a little bit. I had only met Perry that night so we chatted about all sorts of stuff. Talk turned to running, as it often does, and he said that he had tried running. In fact, he ran his first Santa 5k in December. "But it's really hard" he said.
I agreed that starting to run is really hard. So is running even after you've been doing it for years. I compared running to cycling. This is probably a huge generalization but I would argue that anyone with even basic fitness can climb on a bike and cycle for 30 minutes. Not necessarily far or fast but they could do it.
Running for 30 minutes. Now that takes weeks of training. Most regular humans do not pull on running shoes and run 30 minutes on their first try. Or their second. Or their 10th. There is a whole other level of commitment needed to run. You have to be willing to be humbled. You have to be willing to struggle through ten minutes and then go home and try again the next day. And again.
On Sunday, my friend Shane (hi Shane!) mentioned on Facebook that he had gone swimming. And he also mentioned that he had forgotten how hard swimming laps was. I agreed because swimming laps was ridiculously hard when I started back in October. One does not just hop in the pool and swim for thirty minutes. It takes time to build up the endurance to swim two laps without panting and holding on to the side of the pool.
Endurance and fitness in one sport does not guarantee anything when you try another sport. I would argue that fitness in one sports makes fitness in another come a little faster but that's about it. The learning curve is pretty steep for anyone who starts.
Except cycling.
Yes, it's true that it takes time to get the strength needed to cycle long distance, cycle up hills or cycle at a fast pace. But even on day one, I would argue that a person could keep their legs moving at a nice leisurely pace for thirty minutes.
No wonder people say that it's just like riding a bike. Once you've found your balance, you're off!
And no wonder it's such a celebration when someone runs their first 5k. Everyone who crosses that finish line has put in weeks and weeks of heart wrenching, humbling effort. And I would argue that, at some point during the training, most people never thought they'd be able to do it.
And that, my friends, is an entire blog post written thanks to a one minute conversation over victory drinks on Friday night.
After a curling game, the winning team buys the losing team their first drink. We all sit together and get to know each other a little bit. I had only met Perry that night so we chatted about all sorts of stuff. Talk turned to running, as it often does, and he said that he had tried running. In fact, he ran his first Santa 5k in December. "But it's really hard" he said.
I agreed that starting to run is really hard. So is running even after you've been doing it for years. I compared running to cycling. This is probably a huge generalization but I would argue that anyone with even basic fitness can climb on a bike and cycle for 30 minutes. Not necessarily far or fast but they could do it.
Running for 30 minutes. Now that takes weeks of training. Most regular humans do not pull on running shoes and run 30 minutes on their first try. Or their second. Or their 10th. There is a whole other level of commitment needed to run. You have to be willing to be humbled. You have to be willing to struggle through ten minutes and then go home and try again the next day. And again.
On Sunday, my friend Shane (hi Shane!) mentioned on Facebook that he had gone swimming. And he also mentioned that he had forgotten how hard swimming laps was. I agreed because swimming laps was ridiculously hard when I started back in October. One does not just hop in the pool and swim for thirty minutes. It takes time to build up the endurance to swim two laps without panting and holding on to the side of the pool.
Endurance and fitness in one sport does not guarantee anything when you try another sport. I would argue that fitness in one sports makes fitness in another come a little faster but that's about it. The learning curve is pretty steep for anyone who starts.
Except cycling.
Yes, it's true that it takes time to get the strength needed to cycle long distance, cycle up hills or cycle at a fast pace. But even on day one, I would argue that a person could keep their legs moving at a nice leisurely pace for thirty minutes.
No wonder people say that it's just like riding a bike. Once you've found your balance, you're off!
And no wonder it's such a celebration when someone runs their first 5k. Everyone who crosses that finish line has put in weeks and weeks of heart wrenching, humbling effort. And I would argue that, at some point during the training, most people never thought they'd be able to do it.
And that, my friends, is an entire blog post written thanks to a one minute conversation over victory drinks on Friday night.
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