Today was the first workout I’ve done since Ragnar, and I’m going to be totally honest. While I was driving to the gym, I could feel my muscles start to get concerned, saying, “Wait a minute, didn’t we just get put through all sorts of torture? What is she DOING to us?!”
Being that the few weeks before Ragnar were, um….less than stellar with the motivation, I’ve not lifted in a month. A MONTH. Knowing this, I intentionally dropped my weights on everything.
It’s a good thing I did.
Realizing that you’ve fallen a long way from where you were in just a few short weeks absolutely blows. I was better off on my arms than I thought I’d be, but damn, it still sucks to feel like you’re lifting baby weights compared to where you were just a month ago.
My legs? That’s a totally different story. My legs are apparently still REALLY MOTHERFUCKING TIRED. I cut my weight to just over half of what I normally do. It hurt. And then I had to do jump squats. The post-jump-squat shoulder lift reminded me FAR too much of my last leg of Ragnar. Boiling hot, sweat dripping down my face, chest, back, everywhere, hardly a breeze to find, legs shaking, and trying not to throw up while tasting way too clearly the Clif’s Shot Blocks I’d eaten earlier.
I make lifting sound so sexy and appealing, don’t I?
So now I just have to get back in my rhythm, my schedule, back to what I had lost motivation to do a few weeks back. It did feel great to get back into the gym, to sweat, to feel like I was doing something to move my body FORWARD instead of devouring a BACON-BACON mac and cheese from Cheeseology and taking a nap. Not to say that wasn’t glorious, but still.
My sights now are set on January. I’ve finished a Ragnar. I’ve finished a few half marathons. I’ve got 5ks, 10ks, a 4k (with beer!) completed and to look forward to. I’ll spend the summer taking things relatively easy and making sure my body stays healthy and fit.
And then the training starts again.
I am actually really fucking excited to start. But not until September.