I spotted this and it rang very true. We went for a walk this afternoon in the Constantia Green Belt: a beautiful Cape Town oasis full of invasive plants and white privilege ignoring the “Keep Dogs On Leads” signs.
Science indeed. I have done science for loads of years, and I can assure you that this is absolutely true. We wandered, beagle on lead, for over an hour. OK, so we stopped often for fun with the new camera (not mine) and rope swings, so we only managed a gentle 4½kms, but that’s basically all of my Christmas indulgences accounted for and now I can start planning for the New Year indulgences.
And then a 2 hour snooze on the 2nd should clear those calories too.
Me, banging out a second consecutive “30+ minute workout at 80%+ of maximum heart rate”:
Ha! This used to be difficult!
Me, a few hours after banging out a second consecutive “30+ minute workout at 80%+ of maximum heart rate”:
Why… why does everything hurt so very much?
Feeling Strong*. Feeling Good*.
* effects may be temporary.
After my problems with my knee at the beginning of the year (and then throughout the rest of the year, if we’re being completely honest), I’ve been working hard to put things right.
I’m happy to say that it’s paying off.
Some decent weight loss (still a work in progress), a huge improvement in fitness (also ongoing) and, this last weekend, a 5km run. Walking isn’t an issue, but that constant impact on the knee as one runs isn’t good. 5km might not sound like much, but given that I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be able to run again, it was huge.
I was dragged out to try a flat parkrun on the weekend and – without wanting to blow my own trumpet – I smashed it. No knee issues whatsoever, and I finished feeling that I could have gone faster or further if I’d wanted to.
Sure, a little muscle stiffness here and there the next day, but nothing terrible. And so now I’m moving straight onto the next hurdle: a game of football on Tuesday evening. Running apparently isn’t an issue, but that constant impact on the knee as one plays football isn’t good. A game of football on Tuesday evening might not sound like much, but given that I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be able to play a game of football again, it will be huge.
Hold thumbs for great news on Wednesday morning.
Following promises made in the post about yesterday’s Run In The Sun, I’d like to inform readers that the only bits of me that are sore are all of them.
But it’s a “good sore”, as if my body is grudgingly acknowledging that it needed a bit of a push to move it towards some greater degree of fitness.
Younger readers may not appreciate my concern that tomorrow morning, being a critical 48 hours on from the exercise in question, may be a whole different story.
“What a difference a day makes; Twenty-four little hours.
Brought the sun and the flowers,
Where there used to be rain.”
Sadly, it seems that we’re doing things backwards down here in Cape Agulhas. Yesterday gave us this scene of the boy ‘togging whales (more of that when we’re back in Cape Town):
But today, I found myself walking the beagle and gazing out over an ocean that looked like this:
It was almost as if all the colour had been sucked away.
The snakes and the tortoises that we saw wandering around here yesterday have been replaced by snails and happily chattering frogs. Annoyingly chattering. Puff adders may be venomous and nasty, but at least they are quiet.
And then the recollection that I’ve promised to take the boy up the local hill on his bike in this grey mizzle. That is, once I’ve dried out from this morning’s exertions…