Ok...it's been a while, and I thought I would take some time to chart my progress. I'm almost four week's into the Insanity workout, and it's definitely insane. Having said that, though, it's up to me to make it even more insane. After all, what I've learned is that anyone can slack their way through any workout regime, if they want to. Insanity isn't any different. It's set up to really push you, but I could slack if I wanted - no one is watching me, and I have to find the internal motivation to push myself. That brings me to my second point: my general reflections.
I started thinking about what I wanted from this process and why I was doing what I plan, and it occurred to me that I need to document less of my activities (outside of Mudder's themselves). After all, who really cares how far I ran today or how many days into the workout regime I am. All of those things are simply markers that will help me gauge my progress, but anyone who cares to read this blog probably finds that stuff tremendously boring.
I've decided that I'm going to be a bit more reflective in general, and only provide holistic details about my day to day routines.
So, what kinds of reflections am I going to make? I'd like to think that they will be more interesting, but I can't really say that for sure. The one thing that I will say is that these thoughts will try to focus more on the story of the Mudder-A-Month project and less on the drudgery (but, having said that, I will say that anyone who wishes to get healthy should be prepared to put in the drudgery work to make it happen - these things don't happen by accident).
To start this new approach, I'd like to tell a story about my brother, who was supposed to run a previous Mudder with me but hadn't recovered from a knee surgery in time. I was disappointed, of course, because I think he would really dig the physical challenge, but I understood. Once he told me that he wasn't able to make it, I started mentally thinking about how we could run the next one together. Of course, life isn't neat or tidy, and I found out that my brother wasn't going to be able to run any future races (don't worry, nothing horrible has happened to him). In order to understand why, you have to know a bit about my brother. He was a High School football star (I was a player...he was a star). Once he graduated, he started looking for a replacement for football, and found an organized rugby league, which he played into his early to mid 30's. Rugby is a beautiful and brutal sport, one that leaves permanent marks on the body. I vividly remember him coming back from a game one Saturday with a cleat mark across his face. That kind of mark fades, but the cumulative effect doesn't. When you're in your 20's, you bounce back, but when you're in your 40's it's not as easy - especially when all those cumulative effects start to catch up to you. It's left him with lots of nagging pains and several surgeries. Again, none of these, individually, are overly dramatic, but stacked on top of each other they become less of a speedbump and more of an Everest. The result is that the last time I talked with my brother he had to opt out of any future Mudders...his body just won't allow it anymore. As the saying goes, "the spirit is willing, but the body's not able".
The interesting thing for me, though, is that he seems legitimately worried about me and the effects that my workouts are having on my body. I think he's afraid that his 20's and 30's playing rugby are equivalent to my 30's and 40's workout and Mudders, and that I'll end up with similar physical issues in my 50's as he's seeing now. Obviously, I can't see the future, but I'm not sure that these things are equivalent. Rather, I think that the fact that I spent my 20's in front of a computer screen as opposed to on the rugby pitch would have had an entirely different set of physical effects, and my efforts now are attempting to combat those issues. I'm not sure that is a bad thing, but I can say that I'm trying to be smart about my approach to these issues. I try not to ignore my pains (as a 25-year-old me would have), and I tend to think that will be a benefit to my 50's rather than a detriment.
Only time will tell, though...
I started thinking about what I wanted from this process and why I was doing what I plan, and it occurred to me that I need to document less of my activities (outside of Mudder's themselves). After all, who really cares how far I ran today or how many days into the workout regime I am. All of those things are simply markers that will help me gauge my progress, but anyone who cares to read this blog probably finds that stuff tremendously boring.
I've decided that I'm going to be a bit more reflective in general, and only provide holistic details about my day to day routines.
So, what kinds of reflections am I going to make? I'd like to think that they will be more interesting, but I can't really say that for sure. The one thing that I will say is that these thoughts will try to focus more on the story of the Mudder-A-Month project and less on the drudgery (but, having said that, I will say that anyone who wishes to get healthy should be prepared to put in the drudgery work to make it happen - these things don't happen by accident).
To start this new approach, I'd like to tell a story about my brother, who was supposed to run a previous Mudder with me but hadn't recovered from a knee surgery in time. I was disappointed, of course, because I think he would really dig the physical challenge, but I understood. Once he told me that he wasn't able to make it, I started mentally thinking about how we could run the next one together. Of course, life isn't neat or tidy, and I found out that my brother wasn't going to be able to run any future races (don't worry, nothing horrible has happened to him). In order to understand why, you have to know a bit about my brother. He was a High School football star (I was a player...he was a star). Once he graduated, he started looking for a replacement for football, and found an organized rugby league, which he played into his early to mid 30's. Rugby is a beautiful and brutal sport, one that leaves permanent marks on the body. I vividly remember him coming back from a game one Saturday with a cleat mark across his face. That kind of mark fades, but the cumulative effect doesn't. When you're in your 20's, you bounce back, but when you're in your 40's it's not as easy - especially when all those cumulative effects start to catch up to you. It's left him with lots of nagging pains and several surgeries. Again, none of these, individually, are overly dramatic, but stacked on top of each other they become less of a speedbump and more of an Everest. The result is that the last time I talked with my brother he had to opt out of any future Mudders...his body just won't allow it anymore. As the saying goes, "the spirit is willing, but the body's not able".
The interesting thing for me, though, is that he seems legitimately worried about me and the effects that my workouts are having on my body. I think he's afraid that his 20's and 30's playing rugby are equivalent to my 30's and 40's workout and Mudders, and that I'll end up with similar physical issues in my 50's as he's seeing now. Obviously, I can't see the future, but I'm not sure that these things are equivalent. Rather, I think that the fact that I spent my 20's in front of a computer screen as opposed to on the rugby pitch would have had an entirely different set of physical effects, and my efforts now are attempting to combat those issues. I'm not sure that is a bad thing, but I can say that I'm trying to be smart about my approach to these issues. I try not to ignore my pains (as a 25-year-old me would have), and I tend to think that will be a benefit to my 50's rather than a detriment.
Only time will tell, though...
