Circuit Breaker
Thursday, January 31, 2008
So I joined a gym. I mean, before, I belonged to the YMCA...still do, I guess, if you want to parse words. But that was mostly for the pool. I'd usually work out in the facility at my condo (which, I might add, for a home gym-type sitch, was fantastic). But a broken water pipe in the workout room and no longer living at my condo has somewhat put the kabosh on that plan. Thus, the joining of a gym. Just two blocks from where I work. With the option of getting a killer protein shakes after (and having it just added to your monthly tab). With my masuse right upstairs. And with a bunch of cool stuff thrown at you just for joining up. Life, my friends, is good.
Or was good. Or, still is good, techically. Just more painfull now. Thanks to circuits.
With the new membership, you get a free traning session. Mine was with Kristy, who was pleased as punch to have been assigned someone who had actually been in a gym before. When she heard I had just done the Ironman, she was downright giddy. I tried to temper her excitement, given that the body sitting in front of her didn't much resemble the one that had covered 140.6 a handful of months back. But she was undaunted. Even when she read the results of my body composition test (which will forever stay in the confines of her little office) she kept referring to me as an "athlete."
I knew I was in a bit of trouble. Two weeks before Christmas, I hit the gym armed with a workout program The Ex had designed for me. And the gym hit back. Hard. So hard, in fact, that for three full days after, I could not use my right arm. Pulling my hair back in a ponytail, brushing my hair, putting on makeup, and even sleeping, all went by the wayside because of the pain. Had I not been with me that whole time, I would've sworn I had broken my arm. I was not prepared for a personal trainer who thought I was an athelte. And I most definitely was not prepared for circuits.
During that session with Kristy, I nearly puked twice, and came close to blacking out once. This regularly happened to me during track practice throughout high school and college. I expected it during the Dairyland Dare. But never have I done either in a gym before. Not even close.
And yesterday, it happened again.
I was slated for mile repeats, a 400m walk break in between. And then after? Circuits.
To borrow a term from The ELF, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I think I saw the Wizard.
I had nearly forgotten what he looks like -- the Wizard. I think the last time I maybe saw him was running the 800 during track. And this time, I didn't catch him. I just waved to him. Honestly, he was so far out in front of me that I don't know if he waved back. I was too busy trying not to throw up on the treadmill. And then again on the step-up box. And after that on the bosu ball, on the bench doing push-ups with dumb bells, and after that, crunches.
I started the repeats at 7.5 on the treadmill, and would run the last quarter-mile at 8.0. After the first, my arms tingled the kind of I-don't-have-enough-oxygen-coming-to-me-you-stupid-girl tingle/hurt that you know only signals more -- and longer -- hurt to come. Unless your schedule only calls you to do one mile, no repeats. And I have never seen one of these schedules. If anyone out there does have a schedule like that, please forward it on to me. I will be forever indebted.
On the second mile repeat, a pretty boy wearing half a bottle of cologne stepped on the 'mill next to mine. I wanted to throw up a little from the smell at the very start. By the end, I was seeing stars and had to take a quick break to quell the dry heaving going on, which seemed to totally gross out the sorority girl walking at a brisk 3.5 next to me.
On the final repeat, the dry heaving started at the quarter mile mark. I put Kanye West's "Stronger" on repeat, but finally, afraid it would turn to wet-heaving, I broke up the last set into two half-mile repeats. It felt like failure. But my official training plan has yet to start. I have time to work up to non-failure.
In the locker room, on my blackberry, I exchanged quick emails with Cheif of Stuff. You can either come get me now or I can lift, I wrote. What I meant was, "Please come get me now. Please, please, please, please. Go ahead and lift. Talking to boss, he wrote back.
Damn.
So I did. I fit in 45 minutes worth of circuits after that. And I pretty much thought I would die, since I had been gasping for breath for say, oh, an hour and a half.
But I didn't die. It felt good. Great even. (Eventually. Like at 10 o'clock that night). And tonight, I'm going back for more. Because this season I'm giving the long and slow stuff a break. This season is about speed and strength. And all that I've read indicates that circuits and intervals are at the heart of making that happen.
So, if you see the wizzard, tell him I'm coming for him. I might not catch him today. Or next week. Or next month. But eventually, we'll meet up.
Posted by Erin 11:44 AM
"That which does not kill you, makes you stronger," is one of my favorite quotes.
*wink wink*
so I guess I'll just sum it up what I had written and say, I'm thoroughly enjoying your
blog. I too am an aspiring blog writer but I'm still new to everything. Do you have any tips for rookie blog writers? I'd really appreciate it.
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