I ran my first 10K race in January this year, and my second one in March. That’s a pretty big deal to me because I’m really unfit and the furthest distance I had ever gone was 8K. Most of my ‘runs’ averaged 2-3K, 5K if I was feeling determined. I once went home after just 10 minutes of jogging. But I was turning 31, and I wanted to achieve something this year. Anything.
After the March run, I signed up for a half-marathon in mid-August. Why? Well, I was just idly scrolling through the 2024 HM results (with no intention of signing up for the next one), when I saw a familiar name. It was a manager I knew. What? I didn’t know she was a runner. How long was a half marathon anyway? I googled it. 21.1K!? What? She ran 21.1K?? I spent the last leg (haha, get it?) of my 10K wheezing, hunched over, and seeing stars (they appeared at the 5K mark and accompanied me faithfully across the finish line). How do people I know just casually participate in what essentially were two 10Ks back to back? How did I not know she was capable of this amazing feat?
And then, I thought, if she could do it, why couldn’t I? And wouldn’t it be great to join the next one, get that medal, and accomplish something great with lifelong bragging rights as a bonus? So I signed up for it. Right. No takebacks now, because the registration fee wasn’t refundable.
So I should probably start training for it, huh? You’d think that, but I went back to being lazy and sedentary in April. I only went to the gym about twice a week, if that. I had excuses not to go for most days. May rolled around. The Bangkok trip was around the corner. I figured it would be a bad idea to have to heal two tattoos on top of muscle micro-tears, so I didn’t go to the gym the entire month. The gym membership fee I paid was essentially very expensive charity work on my part.
Well, it’s now mid-June. Mid-August is only two months away, and after accounting for the planned taper in my training leading up to the actual race day, I really don’t have much time left to prep. So, I decided to go today. I almost talked myself out of it, because I was so tired after work. I also had to pick up some rabbit hay and pellets, then go fill up on gas afterwards. But I decided to just put on my training outfit, lace my shoes, and let the workout take care of itself. If I didn’t start now, then when?
I decided not to renew my previous gym membership. It’s really too expensive considering I already pay for monthly music lessons. I decided cheaper gyms with $3 walk-in rates were good enough for me. I could save a lot on that. Anyway, the workout only lasted about 25 minutes. I didn’t want to overexert myself because I was just starting to get my feet wet again. I did romanian deadlifts with dumbbells for about 15 minutes and went on the treadmill for the remaining 10 minutes.
It felt good to be back in the gym. I’d noticed that during my sedentary period, I had to stretch so much more often. It just didn’t feel right. Before I ever started lifting, I didn’t have to stretch all that much. After I stopped strength training, I suddenly felt strongly compelled to stretch every time I stood up. The need for it was like an itch that had to be scratched. I’m no scientist, but I do think it was my body’s way of saying it needed regular workouts again.
I think with respect to strength training, I’ll stick to RDLs and other things like sumo squats on weekdays, and save the squat racks and anything else involving barbells for weekends, when I’m not so tired. I don’t think barbell squats are a good idea when I’m already physically exhausted to begin with. Safety is one reason. Giving myself a reputation as the resident half-rep Harriet is another.
I also forgot how hungry I get after workouts. After leaving the gym, I went to get a small tiramisu gelato and fried eggs because dinner wasn’t enough. I used to think I had to be miserly with food portions after exercise to maintain that calorie deficit, but now I’d rather fuel my body than restrict my intake and be miserable and hungry the next day. Sod it, I’m not letting those IG fitness influencers decide what I need or don’t need to eat. I think eating more but showing up consistently to the gym a few times a week is still better than eating normally and not exercising at all.
The only bummer is that the gym was so crowded that whichever way I faced, my butt always came within 20 cm of some gymbro’s face every time I hinged during a rep. The men on both sides of me who were initially facing the front or in my direction eventually ended up swivelling toward the opposite direction, like sunflowers turning to find the sun. It wasn’t long before I noticed everyone in the free weights section assiduously trying to avoid eye contact like it would turn them to stone. I can sort of understand, though, I wouldn’t want to be in their position either. Still, sorry not sorry, I’m not gonna half-rep my RDLs!
