It’s not the training that’s tough

There is a selfish luxury to being able to train hard. I used to envy the lives of elite athletes who could justify planning their days around their workouts and recovery. I look back now through the lense of age though and I can see that I used to live a life not too far off of theirs– at least intermittently (I wasn’t always the most consistent trainer).

There were times when I would look forward to going to bed early and eating a good dinner in preparation for a long, hard workout the next day. In the morning, I’d wake up and ease into it, fueling with coffee, breakfast and the newspaper. Then, mentally and physically ready, I would hit the road and really give everything I had to my workout. I would leave nothing behind and come back home exhausted and content. The rest of the day would be spent with some much-needed napping, refueling, and recovering.

I can specifically recall when I was training for the Ironman in 2004. Some of my weekend morning workouts consisted of a two-hour indoor training ride of hard intervals, followed by a nine-mile run with 3 x 10 minutes done at tempo pace. I would finish those workouts so depleted that I’d spend the rest of the day on the couch. Reading and napping was all I had energy for.

These days, I may have the mental and physical energy to complete a tough workout like that, but the recovery piece is glaringly absent. As soon as I get in the door from a run, I am in demand. I’m lucky if I am able to grab a quick shower and snack before dealing with kids’ needs. Usually though, I come in and start cleaning up a mess and making food for people before I have a chance to strip off my wet clothes.

The the day begins. For us, it’s filled with various adventures on bikes, in pools, to museums or zoos. I can do these things (and even enjoy them) with a smile on my face if I’m a little tired. But I can’t manage it if I’m in the pit of exhaustion that extremely hard workouts induce.

When I’m in that state, if one single thing other than a nap is requested of me, I turn into a bear and snap and rage. No amount of coffee can make me human.

My kids who are often faced with a happily endorphined mom (who probably lets more slide than she should) are suddenly faced with the opposite extreme as I come close to tears when requested to fix a “bumpy sock” for the tenth time. And when someone spills juice on the floor, I lose it. I just don’t have the energy to deal.

I’m not writing this to complain. I signed up for the parent gig and I love it. What I’m talking about is reserving energy for after the run. I just have to be mindful of my post-workout energy reserves these days, and make sure there is enough left over after a workout.

I’m careful not to go over the edge because the consequences if I do are way too hard on me and my family. Do I miss the feeling of working out that hard? Maybe a bit. But I’d never trade it for the feeling of sharing laughs and adventures with my family.