Time for recap. I started training seriously around mid April. I combined my usual weight training with 2 HIIT sessions – Tabatas cycling – so I’ve been in the gym 5 days every week, for a whole month. It was difficult, it was awful, I was dead tired all the time. It built endurance, for sure. I didn’t lose much fat, though. Next to nothing, to be honest. Part of me thinks I got denser. It was a struggle, but somehow, this kickstarted my fat loss. I switched to V-challenge instead of HIIT and things looked promising for a while.
I’ve spent the next couple of weeks travelling and eating carbs, yet I managed to lose weight during that time. Since I got back I’m experiencing serious post-holiday DOMS and I’ve lost another kilo of fat.
Here comes the catch. It turns out I don’t get jokes anymore. One day we were chatting with a friend after her jogging session. She was complaining that she registered for a 5k race as a team, but her partner decided to quit. So she had a team, but she was all alone. Somebody suggested I should join her and I laughed. Funny! Me running? Right… I don’t like running, I hate running!! And I’m not very good at it. I’ve never been.
However, I woke up the next day thinking about it. 5k seemed very possible. It was a challenge, the time to prove that all this crazy gym training meant more, that it got me strong enough to tackle activities which were beyond my reach in the past.
So I started running. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a runner. This is just a phase, a small obsession. I got myself a new pair of shoes. They’re comfy, but I wish they had a flat sole. Those bumps don’t mix well with muddy asphalt or other slippery surfaces and I won’t be able to use them for weight training.
I’ve started slowly, doing intervals. I’m roughly following this schedule here. I jumped in at Week 4 and I’ll try to progress every 2 sessions. The race is on the 14th next moth, there’s not much time to train. Yesterday I ran, and partly walked, 7.5 km in 1h 5min. Not bad, I’d say.
Until now, my general feeling about running hasn’t changed. Whoever decided to run just for the sake of running was surely insane. I’m convinced there are better ways to train which don’t involve stressing every joint in your body and kicking all your insides around at every step. The first ten minutes make me think of death and quitting and promising myself I’d never do this again after the race. It takes a while until endorphins kick in and I’m sure it happens because my body wants to die peacefully and it decided not to struggle anymore. Thus, the last part of the run gives me hope, enough to go running the next time. Poor fool!
I also figured out why runners are so skinny. After a weight session I’m so hungry I could eat a cow every two hours. After a run I’m hungry as hell, but I can’t feed myself. My stomach is so stressed, it can’t bear any food. I guess I’m lucky the Turkish shop is near the park and not on my way back from the gym.