When did my life become one giant training log? Jeez. Sometimes I look at the upcoming week's workouts and my stomach sinks with dread. It can all get pretty overhwelming sometimes. Nobody enjoys running fast intervals up a steep hill. But then I flip through my actual training diary and see myself getting faster and stronger--better times, higher pace, and I think it's all worth it.
It's strange to think that I'm actually running a lot LESS, distance wise, than I was before-but my runs now are so much more challenging. Hills and intervals and fast fast fast pace. I'm adding stuff to the workout plan, too. I know my coach knows what he's talking about, but when he puts "40-minute jog" on my workout plan, I'm not going to do that. I'm going to do an hour easy jog with a few intervals at the end. It can't hurt.
I came to a realization the other day that I haven't come to in awhile.
I
like to run. That thought has evaded me for almost 3 months now. Before I joined the team I got into a pretty serious running rut--I hated the daily drudgery. I lost my will to do it, I no longer looked forward to it anymore. But running in the mountain, listening to my feet and my own rhythmic breathing(I leave my iPod at home now), I've re-discovered my joy for it. Running is
fun for me. That's why, 6 years ago, I laced up my shoes a second time. And a third. And a fourth.
A lot of people don't talk about the weird things that happen to your body though, when you run a lot. Like, run a lot. I addressed a lot of these issues with my coach because y'know, it freaked me out. But apparently it's all normal.
And I want to be real so let's TALK ABOUT THIS.
First off, you get struck with sudden, panicky bouts of thirst where you feel like you'll melt if you don't consume a litre of water RIGHT NOW. The thirst gets so bad that it will wake you up at night. I have bottles of water stashed in my car, in my room, and in every purse.
You get wicked cravings for salt. Wicked cravings, and I
hate salt. You sweat so much running that a million bottles of Gatorade don't have enough sodium to replenish your supply, and craving salty foods is your body's way of letting you know it needs something.
That's another thing, too. You start to crave weird things, like a pregnant lady. Pickled beets. Sesame crackers--and I
hate those darned things glued together with honey. But now I can't get enough. Coach says to always, always let your body have what it craves. Runners have this insane ability to always put mind over matter--running is damn painful--so when your body wants something insane, you have to follow it and heed it's demand. It's your body's way of trying to tell you you're not getting enough of something. For instance--those sesame crackers? Wicked huge sugars in them. But I don't eat dessert and sugars are still a form of carb that your body needs as fuel. Not a good carb to get too much of, but you still need some.
You fall asleep. Everywhere. I used to be an insomniac. Sleep is your body's way of repairing itself--muscle fibers, tissues, everything is regenerated when you're asleep. Train yourself into the ground and you'll have a lot of repairing to do.
You'll feel enough pain to eventually just go numb. Accumulated tiredness and fatigue is what ends up getting a runner in the end. You can sprint up a hill all you want for two, three days. By the fourth day, you're lucky if you can clear a mile. The fifth day, you don't even know your own name. A constant ache has been ever-present in my quads, hamstrings, shoulders and hips since I started running competitively. It just always
hurts. I look like an old lady when I get up from a chair or climb the stairs. Everything is sore and tender--but you learn to get over it. Because in the end, you have two choices: you can dwell on the pain, or you can shut up and pretend it doesn't hurt. It's sure as hell not going away, so why dwell on it?
Saying that you're constantly hungry is an understatement. After my run yesterday, I had two humongous bowls of pasta for dinner. An hour after that, I was hungry again so I had a chicken sandwich. Half an hour later, when I was
ravishing, I had a bagel and cottage cheese before bed. This morning, I woke up feeling as if I hadn't eaten in weeks. Food is digested in a half hour flat, and you're starving again.
Your body starts to do weird things, some of which are gross, some are not. That ankle never cracked like that before. Was my pinky toe always blue? My quad never bulged like that. The skin on your toes isn't skin anymore, it's rough, rubbery, leathery callouses that are pretty gross to touch. It's like rawhide. And let's face it--you've got sweaty, techno-fabric rubbing tightly against your skin for extended periods of time in extreme heat. That's going to cause some issues. My sports bras started irritating the hell out of the inside of my arms, where it rubs as I run. You know what I had to do? I had to go out and buy
lube. I'm not even kidding. It's called Body Glide. It's a special sports lube. But
still. Ew. The guys on my team wear nipple guards.
My muscles twitch like crazy when I sleep. Rather violently, too. A lot of the time my own thrashing will wake me up. It's odd, but it's fast-twitch fibers repairing and cells regenerating and just sheer power and energy trying to expend and rest. I pity the next person I share a bed with.
You start to hear your own heartbeat--and I mean
hear it. Anymore, I get kinda nervous when a place goes really quiet because I can hear my own heart beating, and I'm wondering if anybody else does. The heart gets so much stronger when you push it. It beats slower, but it beats with authority. I can feel it in my chest now, and I can often hear it when I lie down at night.
SO, all in all, being an athlete is kind of gross. And I'm trying to say that more. I'm an athlete. I never thought I was one and I still have qualms with saying it, but I think it's good for my confidence and self-image if I stop denying that I am one.
