May 2007 - It All Starts Here

[Sweder]

Sometimes you go out and have a spiritual experience on a run; you're lifted beyond the daily drudge, carried off on a swarm of endorphins to an altogether higher plane . . . and sometimes you just get out there and get the job done.

This morning was one of those utility numbers; out the door, two, three, four . . . into hills swathed in mizzle, rough wind bullying up from the south. I took a thorough soaking for a full fifty minutes, fuelled by some excellent stuff from Planet Rock. Track du jour has to be The Who's Love - Reign O'er Me, beautifully segued into Poison by Alice Cooper.

Only love
Can make it rain
The way the beach
Is kissed by the sea
Only love
Can make it rain
Like the sweat of lovers
Layin' in the fields

No lovers layin' in these fields . . . but plenty of sweat.

[Sweder]

Another yawnfest at the torture club, more rowing, cycling, mad balancing acts and macho weight-lifting. All the while the sun beamed down to illuminate the pub-goers floating along the high street. The horror, the horror . . .

50 minutes graft with a pacey half-mile round-trip stroll. I feel better for it, but have to wonder if the splashes on the base of the static cycle contraption were made of sweat or tears.

Back to the hills tomorrow; Seaford Half on Sunday.

[El Gordo]

Gyms are OK.

People often remark, when they've just done a 10K, something like "Crikey, I can't inagine doing a half marathon". After the half marathon, they will say "There's no way I could do a marathon if it means doing that distance all over again". And so on.

My stock reply is that you can do pretty much any distance because when you do a 10K, you start the raqce with your 10K head on. When you do a half or a marathon, then you start the races with your half marathon or your marathon head on. Your expectations change. When I go to the gym (and I've been quite a few times over the past month or so), I go with my gymn head on.

This is a rather long-winded way of saying that you have to adjust your expectations. It looks like you're going to the gym with your Black Cap head on. Or worse, your Snake head! Cast off these beasts, strap yourself into your iPod, and enjoy a new sensation. I do 2 x 5 minutes on 4 or 5 different cardio-vascular contraptions, alternating them so that there's always something new about to happen. Admittedly, at the work gym, you can watch satellite TV as you run/cycle/row/cross-train etc, which helps pass the time too.

I feel OK after a stint in the gym. It aint no lope through the bluebell woods as the sun sets, but it's good for you nonetheless. Think of it as making you better prepared for the outdoor stuff.

[Sweder]

Yeah . . . naah, I prefer to whine, thanks
For me going to the gym is like taking the car for a service; the car's purpose is to convey me to my destination, preferably via an enjoyable, uplifting route. Sometimes through necessity a pragmatic dash is called for but I like driving - look forward to it. Gymnasia, like garages, are loaded with grease-monkeys keen to part you with your hard-earned. Oh, they know their stuff and for the most part you'll leave running a good deal better than when you first chugged in; I just don't feel comfortable in there; at least, not yet.

It amounts to much the same thing I guess. Gym work has become a necessary evil for me thanks to a sever case of wobbly carcass collapsus in Cape Town. In order to drag myself over that terrain for six hours I need more than half-decent legs and a veteran New York cop's midriff.

My routine consists of 10 minute rowing (level 7 or 8), 2 x 12 forward press thingies*, 2 x 12 ape-hanger pull-downs*, 2 x 12 shoulder lifts, 2 x 15 imaginary headers off the large beach-ball with 2 x 15 dying fish backlifts over the same ball, rounded off with ten minutes on the bike or treader. It's not miserable at all really - I feel pretty good afterwards, bouncing back along the high street to the office, face glowing after a nice hot shower. But I do like to whinge about it.

We get some sort of corporate-branded MTV stuff piped into the work-out area. Some of the accompanying televisual imagery is easy on the eye, though I confess to enjoying watching tight bodies wrapped in lycra far more when I'm not draped, dripping and breathless, over a sweat-splashed implement of torture. It's not all bad; today's track du jour was Lou Reed's Satellite Of Love - an excellent re-mix that charted briefly a year or so ago I believe.

I'll stick at it provided there's some evidence of improvement before Christmas Like all men of a certain age aware of their own fallability I paid the full twelve month membership up front. If I quit early I chuck away all that money

[SIZE="1"]* See? I'm totally au fait with the jargon already [/SIZE]

[El Gordo]

To be honest Sweder, I actually agree that the gym can be pretty ghastly, but it's my way of tolerating it. Fortunately, the work facility is well-equipped and cheap enough to be virtually free (£2 a month). It also means I can use the shower/changing facilities when I prefer to go for a lunchtime run. And it's usually pretty empty.

In fact, I'm just off to use the changing room now, and then it's off to meet up with Nigel (remember the fellow?) for a run in Bracknell Forest. I'll be having some stiff words with him about his abandonment of the place that catapulted him to fame.

[Sweder]

and then it's off to meet up with Nigel (remember the fellow?) for a run in Bracknell Forest. I'll be having some stiff words with him about his abandonment of the place that catapulted him to fame.

Nigel . . . Nigel . . . he related to that Niguel fella?
Go easy on him old boy, he's not used to running with a born-again powerhouse of your calibre.

[Sweder]

Fortunately, the work facility is well-equipped and cheap enough to be virtually free (£2 a month).

Hmm . . . a gift horse whom's mouth should not be look in.
I coughed up in excess of three hundred sovs for my twelve months of pleasure. Insult to bleedin' injury . . .

(sound of Sweder being dragged off and severely beaten by the Save Our Will To Live campaigners . . .)

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Hmm, cost is exactly the reason I don't use a gym. Particularly as I forked out the equivalent of 2-3 years membership for my very own treadmill. But I really should use one as my upper body is wasting away and looks ridiculous on top of nice muscly legs. But then, I look at all those torture devices they have in those gyms and I run away screaming anyway.

What's a bloke to do? Nothing for it but to go for a run.

But then...

Oh forget it. I'm off to the pub.

[El Gordo]

£300 is not actually that bad compared with some, but it's still a hefty whack. If you became a regular user (say twice a week) that would make each visit about £3, which is reasonable I suppose. The trouble is, the stats tell us that few people manage to keep their visits going that frequently for that long.

But let's face it, what would you rather have -- a year's worth of gym membership or 110 pints of Guinness?

[Sweder]

But let's face it, what would you rather have -- a year's worth of gym membership or 110 pints of Guinness?

I can't tell you how relieved I was to see a smiley face after such a wildly irresponsible question

[Sweder]

My upper body is wasting away and looks ridiculous on top of nice muscly legs.

Which is a serious matter as I discovered on Chapman's Peak. Upper body weakness contributes to poor posture (they don't call me Quasi for nothing) which leads to back pain . . . frankly Ibuprofen can only deal with so much at any one sitting.

Speaking of 'nice muscly legs' Moyleman cracked me up during our TOM training. He claimed one pleasant side-effect of all the heavy hill running was his good lady couldn't keep her hands off his nmls. Did I find this to be the case? I muttered something about investing in some new glasses for Mrs S . . .

[El Gordo]

Speaking of 'nice muscly legs' Moyleman cracked me up during our TOM training. He claimed one pleasant side-effect of all the heavy hill running was his good lady couldn't keep her hands off his nmls. Did I find this to be the case? I muttered something about investing in some new glasses for Mrs S . . .

Well I have to confess that M has taken to grabbing my calf muscles and cooing when I walk around in shorts. Apparently they are my "best feature" these days. Which is nice, as I don't recall ever having a best feature at all prior to this running lark.

Tip of the day: Don't wait to be complimented. We're getting too old for patience. Force the issue. Fresh from the shower, march up to Mrs S and demand: "So, do you think my legs are getting more muscley?" She'll have no choice but to grasp them. And then the cooing starts. Take my word for it.

[Sweder]

And then the cooing starts. Take my word for it.

Good advice . . . I'll try that out.
But 'cooing'? Sounds horribly like a new strain of bird flu to me . . .

[Moyleman]

Ah, Sweder - don't be all coy.

I remember your exact reply, because it cracked me up.

YOU looked in the mirror and took pleasure in your own appearance.

Leg musclings bulging under the tight running garb.

My missus these days just grabs my arse - with a corresponding "Corrrr"

Need to get back out there - nearly 2 weeks of abstinence (the running variety) and the calf is about there.

Looking forward to Seaford.

[Sweder]

Should have started a June thread. Oh well, I put it down to too much work-related stress. I'll just have to extend May for a day or so . . .

Slipped back into the gym again tonight, Andy's admonishment nagging away together with MLCMan's pearls on the HH thread about cycling being good for the inner quad. Seeing how I'm chomping vitamin B complex like candy to remedy weak quads this seemed like a good reason to get torture session number three for the week under my slightly strained belt. I'd toyed with a morning blat into the hills - it was the perfect morning; cool, drizzly, skies brightening to the east . . . but decided to rest my running legs for Sunday.

That Andy may know a thing or two y'know.
I'd swear this evening's sesh was a tad easier and ever so slightly less gruelling than those earlier in the week. Perhaps this rusty old ocean liner can be turned around after all. We'll see.

[SIZE="1"]Note to self:
Rowed 2.2 k in 10 minutes and cycled 4.3 k in 10 also.
Being horribly competitive I'll take pleasure in the increased kilometerage (4.1 k on Tuesday) and look to blister those distances in the weeks ahead [/SIZE]

[glaconman]

I think you should nuture your hatred for gyms Sweder. Celebrate it. Don't let reason or rationale intervene. Don't let anybody dilute your obvious sense man!

What's cycling without the peaks, troughs and vistas of the open road? And what's rowing without the splendour of the river? Imagine Ratty and Moley in a gym!

It's just the isolation of muscle groups and the laboratorization of our glorious lives.

Fight it brother!

[Sweder]

Imagine Ratty and Moley in a gym!

There are some sick, sick people around here