Milk was a Bad Choice

As always, I come crashing down to Earth in a spectacular heap.

Today, much like the last few days, has been unseasonably warm, as I’m sure we are all fully well aware. Something like 28 degrees today, according to my car thermometer. Add to that the fact that I was out on the road for most of the day, I managed to get to the gym somewhat a little worse for wear this afternoon.

Woman had me working hard at the start of Week 8, but that being said, I don’t blame her cruel tutelage for once. The fact was, in retrospect today, I was dehydrated. Being out on the road all day, barely managing to get a cup of iced latte during lunch, my body really wasn’t match fit. Particularly for a more intense run.

Week 8 Day 1 asked me to run for 5 minutes, and walk for 1 minute, ten times. With warm ups and cool downs each side, the requirement was 69 minutes. After 47 minutes, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so depleted. I hit the cool down button on the treadmill after 7 of the 10 runs, and that was all I had. Rocky soundtrack or not.

During the cool down walk, my legs were on fire. I mean, seriously, they have never felt so warm. They weren’t warm to the touch, but the muscles and the ligaments seemed to be seriously throbbing. It wasn’t painful, it was just weird being the first time I think I’ve asked so much of my legs.

Walking back from the gym in the same afternoon sun, I was grateful that I’d pushed myself in a nice air conditioned gym, and not out on the roads.

Today might have really been my first proper lesson in hydration. I’ve read about hydration being important in magazines etc, but I always considered my water bottle to be more  a dry mouth and thirst quencher. Perhaps during my runs it is, but getting fluids into yourself the day before is now quite clearly very important. I plan to up my intake tomorrow and prove the difference on my Sunday morning run – the full 69 minutes this time.