Life Immersion

The final quarter of 2011 grew cushy for me - many 3-4 day work weeks as I used vacation time, while my training wound down after completion of our final half marathon in October (and of course, ground to a halt with my hamstring injury). So, by the start 0f 2012, I was accustomed to a new pace of life, a pace that was upended this past week when every aspect of daily living picked up again, converging into a week of go!-Go!-GO!

This meant actually working 5 days in a row, starting our official Canyonlands training, resuming my evening yoga class (after a 3-week holiday break) and my early morning Wednesday outdoor run with Rosanna (after 7 weeks off with the injury). I worked extra hours dealing with client crises - some days finding it a challenge to even get to the bathroom. I hit my first 20 mile running week and my first tentative piece of speed work since early November - both went well, without a relapse to my hammie. I was pushed harder and harder in my training sessions with Aaron - squatting and lunging with an 85# barbell across my shoulders, engaging in plyometrics, kettle bell drills, crazy-hard core work and upper body weights that exceeded my standard weights by 20# (i.e., when I worked out on my own in a seated row I always used 50# - when Aaron put 70# on, I thought he was nuts, but I did it no problem). A massage with Angie Man Hands found my legs in the best condition she's ever seen them - nothing tight, or bound for her to plow through - a real testament to the benefits I'm receiving from personal training. And the week wrapped up with a slow and snowy 6-miler today. Oh, how I covet clear and dry sidewalks!

Though I know the snow really slowed me down, I'm still slower than I was before my strain. It's difficult to be patient at times, causing me to engage briefly in fearsome catastrophic thinking - "Will I ever get back to the speed I was at in October?" Of course, this is irrational. I know I will get back there, and perhaps excel beyond, but not knowing when that will happen can be daunting. So, I must take it in stride, one run at a time, grateful that I can run again without pain.

My heart rate monitor tells me I put forth 10 hours of effort this week, burning 3900 calories. My body tells me it's given it's all, and that I need to get some quality restorative sleep tonight (my droopy squinty eyes concur). My mind tells me I'm fully immersed in my life again, facing the welcome and familiar challenge of doing it all, and that I'm kicking ass. Life is good.