Training is Draining

Part of my life's good fortune consists of being surrounded by people who inspire and motivate me. I am truly thankful for the opportunity to surround myself with outstanding athletes who challenge me to become better.

One of those role models is my friend Erin, who designs the gym workouts we do each Tuesday morning. Every week is different; new muscle groups are challenged in new ways. We do everything from pushups to jumping rope to endless variations of situps, planks, and lunges.

Yesterday was her birthday, and whether it was related to that fact or not, she came up with a deceptively evil set of exercises for us to do. I felt like the workout was hard, but not anything beyond what we had done before. And then I woke up this morning...and tried to move.

Oh, the pain!

My hamstrings and glutes are on fire, and I involuntarily scream every time I have to get up from my chair. My triceps and lats are aching, and raising my arms requires a concerted effort. These are the days when I really appreciate my crew cut coiffure...because if I had to comb my hair, I don't think I could reach up to do it.

I'm OK with that. If I'm going to get in shape to compete well this summer and fall, I'm going to need to push myself a bit more than I have been. Sore muscles are part of the feedback loop you have to have to train intelligently. It's glaringly obvious that many of my muscles haven't been pushed to where they need to be.

I want to get strong and fit, and I'm at a point where I think I might be able to put forth the effort required to do that. My body certainly doesn't recover as quickly as it used to, but I will just have to factor that parameter into my training program.

I know that most of the people who read this blog are well-focused athletes. I would love it if you would share some of your motivational tips with me. What gives you the determination to work hard? What are your secrets for dealing with days when everything hurts? What triggers your inner Ferrigno? Please let me know. Thanks.

I'd also be curious to know if anyone has any interesting stories about how they became inspired to become an athlete in the first place. I'd love to swap stories and share some of them online.

For me, it began when my best friend, Herbie Bevan, invited me to join the Harvest Park swim team. I was already hanging out at the pool most of the day anyway, and Herbie pointed out that some of the cute neighborhood girls would be on the team as well.

Little did I know that more than 50 years later, swimming would still be a central focus in my life. Perhaps in future posts, I'll reminisce about all-day swim meets under the blazing hot Kansas sun, or the stabbing eyeball pain that came from swimming for hours in chlorine soup in the years before goggles were invented. I have stories about diving to retrieve frogs from the deep end, learning the "bellybuster" style of racing dive (performed where the pool is not marked with "No Diving" signs), and being astounded by the sight of coach Ed Poley somehow swim an entire 50 meters underwater.

But those tales are for another day. Today, the snow continues to fall, and my legs continue to ache. All I can think about is taking a nice hot bath and then crawling under a thick warm blanket for a good night's sleep. Then I'll be ready to face additional exercise tortures tomorrow.

Have a great day!