Update: I am definitely not able to walk after Sunday’s Stadium workout. My calves feel like they are wound up very tight and no matter how much rolling, massaging or stretching I do, I cannot coax those muscles out of the fetal position that I have scared them into. I have been reduced to a kind of straight-legged, walking-on-stilts hobble and when I’m by myself, I don’t feel ashamed to whimper an “ouch” with every step.
Last night I was scheduled for a swim workout, but just couldn’t convince myself that that was a good idea seeing as how my legs were attempting to secede from the rest of my body.
Tonight, I am scheduled for a swim and then a RealRyde at Sweat Therapy. I’m determined to make the swim because I don’t want a repeat of yesterday’s workout-less, Office marathon/pity party/all-night eating binge. As for the RealRyde…I guess I’m just wimping out on that one. Shannon has the ability to turn my legs to goo on a good day. I hate to think what tomorrow would be like after 75 minutes with her tonight on these useless legs.
But (there’s always a but when I’m thinking about straying from my workout schedule), last night I discovered what the Death Race people are doing with all the newspaper articles that the participants are submitting: click here. And now I’m reconsidering skipping that workout.
After reading some amazing stories about the other participants, I feel sufficiently undertrained. Jogging while towing a 75lb Hummer tire? Diving in sewage? Barefoot water-skiing? Really? And everyone and their moms are doing CrossFit. What’s that about? I started thinking about all the ex-military and tough, burly woodsmen that the course designers are trying to test. Can I really do this? I started to have some serious doubts. After sending the link to Ricky, he got back to me saying that we were upping our Sunday training time. I agreed. But, seriously, am I physically able to compete with these guys?
I don’t see another option, so, yes, I am physically able to do this. I’m determined. I’m strong. I. Will. Not. Give. Up. I saw 127 Hours on Friday (Aron Ralston’s experience of being left with no choice but to amputate his own arm after being trapped by a boulder in a canyon for 5 days). While I was running 9.6 miles at sub-marathon pace on Saturday, I kept thinking, “I have prepared my body for this. I can get through this. This is something that will be over in less than 2 hours.” And while I was climbing the stadium stairs on Sunday, I was thinking, “I have both my arms. I am hydrated. If he can climb out of a canyon with a bloody stump, dehydrated, weak from starvation then I can climb these few stairs.” Sometimes you just need a little perspective.
So even though these men have Navy Seal training, have participated in pro-sports or have 100lbs of muscle on me I know that I can manage the grueling physical and mental test that is the Death Race for at least 24 hours because Aron managed for 127.