So, my current project of awesomeness is trying to follow a couch to 5k training plan, with the eventual goal of running a race. Not for a competitive time or anything, just to see if I can do it. An additional goal is to increase my fitness, particularly my cardio so I can spar better in taekwondo class.
So, in typical impatient me fashion, I jumped right into it. I pinned a few things on Pinterest, downloaded a free couch to 5k training app, decided I was actually gonna do this shit, and off I went.
Day 1 of Week 1, Monday: I followed the app’s instructions for 5 minutes of brisk walking, followed by 20 minutes of 60 second running alternating with 90 seconds of walking. Then, a 5 minute cool down for a total of 30 minutes.
Death. That is what the first 60 seconds of running was like. Frankly, I was already tired from the damn 5 minute walking to start! WTF am I doing, is what I was thinking during my first 90 seconds of walking. Running again, more death, and now breathing hard, feeling that squeeze in my chest. Great. And damn that pavement sure is hard. Is it supposed to feel this hard? Fuck this shit, I’m going home. No, dammit, you are gonna finish this shit. Ok, but thank goodness for this app keeping me accountable or else I would have gone home and pretended like none of this ever happened except as a bad idea in my head.
The rest of the run-walk, hell, I dunno what happened. I did it, but only because that damn voice on the app told me what to do next. When I got to the cool down part I started briskly for home.
When I got home I was like, hey, that wasn’t so bad. Clearly the endorphins have deleted the last thirty minutes from my brain. I was feeling good, took a shower, went to work. I expected to feel tired later that day, but I didn’t. Instead, I felt great! I felt happier and peppy-ier and I wasn’t feeling sore. Wooohoooo. I’m ready to run a fucking marathon!!!
NO. Let me tell you what I felt like the next afternoon: Death. My shins were really, really sore. The tops of my feet hurt. My calves were only a tiny bit sore, which surprised me. Clearly, I am doing something wrong. I skipped taekwondo class and went back to sleep. That evening at work I hobbled around like a granny.
The next day: I was pissed. It didn’t seem possible, but I was more sore in my shins than the previous day. I was so stiff and sitting for awhile at work and then getting up from my desk was like, you guessed it, DEATH. Ok, fine, now I’m mad. I’m supposed to be gearing up for my second day of training, and I can barely fucking walk. I am impatient, and this is not going to plan. Cue irrational anger and self-pity.
The next day was Thursday and I made it to taekwondo class, though my shins were still sore but less so. Surprisingly, the workout helped and I felt better physically and mentally. Then, I bruised my ankle breaking a board, and later discovered the start of a blister on my toe. Oh hell no. I got shit to do! Ugh!!!!!