It’s been just over a month since I stated that I wanted to spend my summer running less, cross-training/lifting more, and ridding my frame of the marathon chub that it had collected over two seasons of high mileage and little else.
So how’s that going?
Um…apparently, it’s going nowhere.
This isn’t so much upsetting as it is weird. Granted, I haven’t counted calories or anything but I have been making a major effort to eat healthy things instead of unhealthy things and I’ve pretty much nixed the weeknight boozing. I’ve been hitting the weight room faithfully and have seen tangible improvements there. I feel less bloated and I no longer need to do an elaborate ballet routine to get in to my favorite jeans.
Dirty filthy lying piece-of-shit scale.
Or, my body is just happy where it is, I guess. I’m going to keep at it for a few more weeks and see what happens. When it comes down to it, I’m not unhappy with my current weight, and I’m not willing to start tracking every morsel that enters my mouth – if that’s what it would take – for the sake of losing a few pounds.
I am also not willing to totally give up delicious food. Eating is one of my favorite hobbies. Some people like modern art or music or classic cars or porn; I like Pork Belly Banh Mi sandwiches from Star Provisions. I have no doubt that if I stopped enjoying food I would lose weight. But delicious food…it’s so delicious….
Anyway. That’s my non-progress report on that project. On to other meaningless statistics, such as workouts from the last two weeks while I was on my little blog hiatus*:
And mileage for May:
(The “days trained” stat includes lifting/XT days as well as running days.)
It still feels weird to be running so little, and my pace has definitely suffered from all of the other activity, but I’ve been pretty happy with my weight room adventures so far.
For instance, last Thursday, I talked Gesina in to doing this work out that I made up which involved 11 different leg and core exercises separated by sets of burpees for a total of 100 burpees. We were at the gym for almost two hours. But that’s mostly because we tend to get chatty between sets. But, hey – at least we’re being chatty at the gym instead of at happy hour, which is probably where we’d be otherwise. I know I’ve said this before, but having a workout partner makes weight lifting about a thousand times more bearable than doing it alone.
And I’ve been pleased with my track workouts too, especially given my lack of overall mileage. This week’s assignment was two sets of 2X800 + 2X400.
I went out hard.
I didn’t have a watch on and somehow missed hearing the 400 split of our first repeat, so I was a little surprised when I heard 3:08 as I finished. Crap, that is too fast, I thought.
So of course I went out and ran a second faster on the next one.
The 400s were a breeze by comparison, but that third 800 was hell. My lungs were burning and my stride was getting all flat and slappy. On the second lap, I let the group I’d been hanging with slip away from me. That pissed me off.
You started this, and you’re going to finish it, I told myself.
So despite the fact that I have no balls and the track has no walls, I put ’em there and finished it hard.
It hurt. In a good way.
Suck it, scale.
*Thank you to each and every one of you who left such flattering and supportive comments on my last post! I absolutely did not intend for it to be a fishing-for-SOMI thing; I just wanted to explain my insecurities about my life and my writing lately. It’s comforting to know that so many of you have had similar feelings and experiences. And of course, I’m glad that there are people out there who want to read this blog. As always, I welcome feedback – negative or positive – in the comments or at eatdrinkrun [at] gmail. <3