Get Fit Slowly

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It is Sunday. I am exhausted. But I don’t mind. Yesterday I exercised more than I ever have before in my life.

In 1997 and 1998, I would make long bike rides, but never longer than fifty miles. These rides took about three hours to complete. And I’ve hiked several miles at a time, but again these hikes have never lasted more than a couple hours.

Yesterday, however, I put my body to the test.

First, I performed my normal marathon training run with the 4:30 pace group. As in the past, it was great. I am completely sold on running with a group. I don’t mind running alone, but when I’m by myself, there are a thousand mental barriers that prevent me from running well, long, or far.

When I run with a group, I’m forced to keep my pace constant and slow. When I run with a group, I talk with the people around me, which takes my mind off the distance, off the weather, off of every little stress or strain. When I run with a group, there’s tacit peer pressure to keep on going. Yet there’s also a camaraderie — if one of us falls behind, the group slows to provide encouragement.

Running with a group is the best exercise experience of my life, even better than playing soccer.

On Saturday, I ran twelve miles in two hours, 25 minutes, and 50 seconds. We averaged 4.94 miles per hour (12:09 per mile). That’s pretty slow by competitive standards, but none of us care. We ran twelve miles, dammit, and that’s enough.

For me, the best part was that nothing hurt. My shin splints were giving me trouble at the beginning of the run, but after two or three miles, they’d gone away. During the last mile-and-a-half, my left foot felt like it was getting a blister. Eventually I realized that this was probably because my foot had swollen in my shoe. But I took away no lasting injuries.

This week I actually ate before running. That’s a good thing. My body had energy. Also, I ate immediately after the run was finished — I scarfed down two cheeseburgers and a banana.

Then, two hours later, I set out for a bike ride with my friends Paul and Susan.

“How far do you want to go today?” Paul asked before we left.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Not very far. My legs are tired. No more than 25 miles, and probably more like fifteen.” We rode 29 miles in two hours, 18 minutes, and 28 seconds.

Again, that’s not a very fast pace. Part of that was due to a strong headwind on our return, and part of that was due to many stops for automobile traffic. We traveled on the Springwater Corridor, a rails-to-trails project in southeast Portland. We rode from Milwaukie to Sellwood to Woodstock and out to Gresham. Our pace was easy (79%-83% heart rate) and we chatted on the way.

In the end, I exercised for four hours, 44 minutes, and 18 seconds on Saturday. I’m exhausted today, but my body has no pain. I don’t want to do this every weekend, but it feels good to have done it this once.

“Be sure you don’t overtrain,” Susan told me toward the end of the ride. “When I was training for Seattle to Portland, I rode too much. I got so I hated my bike. I didn’t even want to look at it. I had to take some time off before I was mentally ready to get back out there.”

This is sound advice. I’m being very watchful for physical and mental signs of overtraining. I’m giving myself plenty of breaks. (No exercise today, for example, and only upper-body weights on Monday.) I’m having a grand time with my weekend training sessions, and I don’t want to grow to hate them.

When the ride was over, I was surprised at how quickly my heart rate and breathing returned to normal. “I feel like I could go out there again,” I said. Then I added, “Maybe I should go up to the pool and swim for half an hour. It’d be like my own mini-triathalon.” But I didn’t. Kris and I went out for dinner instead!