I got into the gym a few months ago mostly because I needed a break from the pool. I like swimming, and I will probably always feel more graceful in the water than I do on land, but it can be a grind. Even if you’re swimming just two to three times per week, it can be mentally and emotionally exhausting trying to stay focused. It’s not like there’s a lot of scenery. You’ve got the little black line and whatever songs you can play back in your head.
The downside of not swimming, though, has been a substantially reduced aerobic exercise schedule. This became doubly true after I hurt my knee getting off a chairlift up at Ski Butternut back in December. I got down to swimming just once per week and had to stop running altogether, leaving me with just weight lifting and occasional bike commuting as I dodged between the Northeast’s various winter storms. Meanwhile, the past few months have been decidedly social. The holidays and the winter months have seen me eating too much and drinking too much, and I’ve not balanced any of this with appropriate levels of aerobic effort. Connecticut’s long, dark winter days haven’t helped, either.
This all came due this past Saturday. I stepped onto the scale for the first time in weeks and shocked myself, weighing in at a whopping 206 lbs! That’s coming off a rest week during which I did virtually nothing besides recover, but still…
It was not good.
Hannah and I talked at length about the importance of aerobic exercise on our way the gym on Sunday. She needs more of it, but I think my words were as much projection as coaching. I will admit, too, that I raised all of my weights on Sunday after having hit a plateau, so who knows? Maybe I really did need all of that rest last week. I did pulldowns at 165 lbs on Sunday and standing curls at 60, and I felt good doing it. Both of those were outstanding efforts. I still haven’t gotten to my goal of benching 185, but that’s coming. But still, that stuff doesn’t burn many calories.
I forced myself onto the treadmill after lifting while Hannah hit the elliptical machine. I ran easy for something like two-and-a-half miles; Hannah went twenty minutes. The guys at Crunch had PBA Bowling on TV, which was substantially better than the black line at the bottom of the swimming pool but not nearly as entertaining as Sunday afternoon football had been. I felt distinctly sluggish chugging away out there, but decided not to push it coming off the knee injury. Even so, my knee was still a little sore afterwards.
For better or worse, I’m gonna have to lose some weight. I’m committed to some charity races later in the year, and they are gonna force me to make some changes. A bunch of my former Army Swimming teammates and I are doing the Swim Across the Sound in August to support St. Vincent’s Hospital. I’m also organizing a cycling team at work for the American Diabetes Association’s Tour de Cure NYC. My plan has always been to work hard in the gym until March--and specifically until Daylight Savings Time starts--and to then pivot back to the pool once the days start getting longer. And yeah, it’s good that I’ve gotten stronger, that I’ve not lost a lot of speed in the pool despite swimming just once per week, but I certainly didn’t intend to dig myself a ten-pound hole from which I now have to pull myself free. Consistency of effort will fix all of this, but with two teenagers and a full schedule of my own…
I mean, yeah, that’s the trick, right?
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