I finally got that gym membership! It didn’t happen Monday as planned, but I finally made it there on Friday and kicked off a four-week circuit training plan and did some hill training on the elliptical. I haven’t been to a gym (outside of hotel gyms while traveling) since back when I lived in the North End and there was still a Planet Fitness in Government Center – maybe six or seven years now? All of the training that I’ve done in the last year and a half has been at home, running or at yoga. But after last August’s Spartan race, I know that I’m going to need to push myself a lot harder in order to be better prepared for my first Spartan of the season on June 4th. To the extent that I even thought about going to Home Depot and buying a bucket and a fifty-pound bag of gravel to fill it to carry up and down my street… Spartans are not normal people.
Other training last week included kettlebell circuits + jumping rope, upper body + core work, hot yoga and three-mile walk with the pup.
Not a lot of badness to report this week other than another run in with my least favorite yoga teacher on Thursday night when she subbed for the regularly scheduled teacher. In the end, it wasn’t a huge crisis and I had a really strong class, but I didn’t get my usual Zen fix since her teaching style is more about the physical than mental aspects of Yoga. I’d had a really tough work day and needed that Zen, but, like all aspects of life, I need to get better about being flexible in my training when things don’t go as planned.
This week my pain, especially at night, was as bad as it’s been in a long time. I spent a good amount of time crying in the shower and lying in bed at night contemplating throwing the entire race season away. Somedays it just doesn’t feel worth it anymore, and I can’t help but think “why am I doing this to myself?” “Why aren’t all of my other accomplishments good enough? Why am I always pushing myself so hard?!” I don’t have an answer for that, but yesterday I found myself on the couch with two heating pads, an ice pack, both wrist braces, a yoga strap to stretch my calf and more Salonpas than can possibly be healthy. I couldn’t even sit up long enough to type this post – not that my left wrist or right hand was up to the task anyway. I felt frustrated and defeated and just over all it.
Of course last week we officially dropped my Methotrexate dose, which I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing about, but I’m living week to week at this point trying to figure out if it’s time to stop it, or, if I need to just learn to live with my body’s extreme reaction to it.
Today is marginally better. I’m sticking with the heating pads and salves, and I’m really hoping to get back to the gym. Why? Because as my friend Molly said yesterday:
“There are days that I’m close to tears walking into the gym, but the thought of letting RA take even forty minutes of movement away from me pisses me off.