Over the past few weeks I haven’t had a lot of wiggle room with physical activity. If something hurts my knee, it’s off the list. If the Coach suggests 20 minutes the spin bike or pool running, I do exactly that. If she says “2 x 10 squats”, I do exactly that. If the PT says “Foam roll for 1 minute”, I hop right off of that torture tube at exactly 60 seconds (because I hate it).
This may be exactly what I need to do for this injury treatment – which is progressing pretty well, for now – but it’s made me extremely antsy. I haven’t worked out for more than 45 minutes in about 4 weeks. A routine that once supplied a consistent load of endorphins to my system has turned into one that seems resistant to them. A brain that was once happily occupied with a detailed training schedule is now spending way too much time thinking.
Thinking back to my training throughout this entire year, there are a few trends. When I started working with my Coach, I completed most of the workouts, while consistently skipping – or, “not fitting in” – a few of them(cough, strength training, cough). I spent way too much energy focusing on how slow my pace was. Then I realized maybe a few of those skipped workouts may have been important. Then I realized maybe the few beats of HR over MAF I consistently ran at may have done more harm than good. Then I realized I actually didn’t train very consistently at all.
Fast forward to July – October, and I filled as many workouts in as “completed” as I possibly could. I could probably count on one hand the number of days I didn’t do what was prescribed, and there would have been a damn good reason for it. But I also just did exactly what was written out. Rarely less, but never more. (One exception: the 100 minutes of plank of September.) Katie was running me to the bone, and I feared anything extra would be a mistake. If it wasn’t planned on my schedule, written out in exact numbers, or approved beforehand, it did not happen.
I never exceeded the minimum of what was put out there for me to do. I stayed where I was comfortable. I never said “this is getting easy – give me more!”. I only tested limits when I was explicitly told to do so.
We’ve got a few new ideas to put into place next year, and one of them is that I’m okay with a few extra nudges, a few extra pounds on the weights, and even a few extra days of those gym sessions. But really, what I’m realizing now, is that I can’t always put that on someone else.
Sure, I love having the guidance of a coach. But during the 26th mile when I’m running solely on faith and the boxes I’ve checked up to that day, I only have my mind. And if my mind can’t get past the minimum required of it, I’ll lose worlds of possibility.
Photo credit: @stravarun instagram.
For the Nth time this year, a new page has turned. We’ll see where that gets me & these recovering legs…