The Months of Muscle: The cardio freak

I've been told that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. So, the half-marathon now behind me, I have moved on to the Months of Muscle. My aims: to get stronger and more toned, to re-discover my abs (actually not sure if I ever discovered them in the first place) and to climb that blasted over-hang at indoor climbing.

I've just finished week two of the month of muscle and this is what I've discovered - I'm addicted to cardio.  I love that 'I can do anything' feeling I get half an hour or so after a 600 calorie session.  I love knowing I'm burning off unwanted calories. And I love being in that mindset where I can't possibly think about my problems because I'm too busy thinking how I'm going to keep going.

Still, I've been told it's difficult to build muscle and keep up such intensive cardio (something complicated about the additional calories burned being taken from your muscle). So I'm going (almost) cardio-free for the next ten weeks. I'm eating (eek) more and concentrating on protein. I've thrown away the heart rate monitor **. I'm pumping iron, doing some yoga and some climbing, and that's it! Might not seem like a change (I've swapped going to the gym for ... err ... going to the gym) but when cardio is like your drug, giving it up is just like withdrawals. 

The first week I almost constantly felt like crying, like I was in a small boat heading for the edge of the waterfall, I kept paddling but knew that, with just one strong current,  I would be sent over the edge. The second week has been better, I upped my weights and felt it the next day ("please don't make me go  down those stairs"). But I still looked longingly a the treadmill, thought lovingly and perhaps with more passion than they deserve, of the days of treadmill intervals.

The Months of Muscle: it's a challenge, but I think I'm up for it ... 

** Actually I've lost the heart rate monitor, if anyone finds it let me know

This is why I'm hot 10: Half Marathon- It's the loneliness that's the killer

It's not the 21 km of the actual half-marathon that takes the courage and perseverance, it's the 400 and something kilometers you rack up in training for it. It's getting out of bed at 5 in the middle of winter when your family are still sleeping. It's the long Saturday morning run along the industrial banks of the Cooks River ** that lasts for more than two hours. It's hours doing interval sprints or rolling intervals in the treadmill. It's doing it, just doing it, knowing in the end there's no prize, no stadium no gold medal. ***

Was it worth it. Well, I rang my husband and blubbered like a baby at the end. I was so proud of myself and this achievement that marked three months of intensive focus on my health and fitness. I felt transformed, from the girl with all the consolation stickers in her little athletics book to ... well ... an athlete. 

They offer a service now where you can view yourself, from a couple of angles crossing the finish line. I've watched mine a couple of times, examined my face intensely. There was no joy, no punch struck into the air. Maybe it was because I was exhausted, but maybe it was because I knew ... a real athlete would complete a marathon. 

Bring on the next challenge: The months of muscle.  

** River is a euphemism, in many parts it is more correctly titled the Cooks Drain.

*** There was however a silver medal I refused to take off for 24 hours. It's still hanging in our bedroom where I can see it from bed.