Day 43: Pumping Iron

After Sunday's false start, I consulted with Jilly and she advised me to skip my run on Monday, as to not strain my leg anymore. In the twenty-four hours since the 9 mile debacle, which more closely resembled the first 15 minutes of Scream than a marathon training session, my thighs were still bothering me. I downgraded this to "thigh pain" because I don't know enough about the human body to exactly pinpoint the source of the pain. I think it was my quads, but it could have just as easily been my knee or my tibia (being that I have no idea where on my body the tibia resides). What was the most worrisome, was the fact that this pain wasn't all that painful, which somehow would've eased my mind. A direct sharp pain, I felt could be worked out, stretched into submission. But this was different. It was a lingering, annoying sort of pain - like something being whispered in your ear while you're sleeping. On the one hand, skipping a run, suddenly became the last thing in the world I wanted to do. On the other hand, I didn't want to injure myself, and not be able to continue training. Somehow I had developed this weird Stockholm Syndrome with my marathon training - I hated it, but I couldn't give it up. Spurned on by my most recent issue of Men's Health sitting in the bathroom and True Lies which I had watched over the weekend, I knew the answer to this problem was simple: Hit the Weights.

As you can imagine, me pumping iron is as antiquated a notion as, well, the term "pumping iron." I get very easily confused on the machines at the gym, and the free weights are like a visceral nightmare for me. But I had to persevere and get to the workout that Men's Health and Josh Duhamel prescribed me.

I immediately realized that I was unprepared, however, because I had left my gold chain at home, and unfortunately, had decided not to gel my hair. I would be a laughing stock. I quickly wondered if I should run to the Wal-Mart across the parking lot from the gym and purchase a pair of extra baggy sweatpants with cargo pockets to avoid mockery, but realized this was too little, too late. Next time I would just grab some Muscle Milk for everyone, and all would be forgiven.

I first did some dumbbell bench presses alternating with pull-ups. I found it ironic that something called the "Belly-Off" Diet, would ask fatties of different proportions to pull themselves up and down a bar. We fat people don't like to hang in the air - it makes everything shift to different, very bad places. This immediately got me thinking of Elementary School Gym class, when we were taking the week long physical fitness test, the only part of which I passed was the sit and reach (I've always been freakishly flexible for someone my size). Mrs. Kuperberg and Mr. Schack would stand up at the class, calling us all up to the pull-up bar one at a time - the boys needed to do 7 to pass the physical fitness test. I had wondered, at the time, whose test this was, and what "passing" it meant? I assume now, as I did then, that it was completely made-up to torture the fatties like me. I haven't grown much as a person since I was nine. My classmates would fail and succeed at different levels (Zee, Lisa, Badee - you know what I'm talking about...), but even though I was a trim 175 pound third grader, and being able to complete a pull-up would be tantamount to curing cancer with my Mr. Wizard Chemistry set. And yet, I was forced to waddle up to the front of the gym, and hang loosely, defiantly on the pull-up bar, my arms out-stretched, my feet nearly on the ground, until the 30 seconds was up.

I wish I could say that this occassion, twenty years later, was different. It wasn't. My first attempt at a pull-up was met by my own snickers as I feel rapidly, holding on to the bars. I thought the momentum of a leap, would give me the added push I needed to get at least one pull-up complete. It wasn't. I then realized that I weigh about 200 pounds, and that if laying flat on a workout bench, I'd be hard pressed to lift 200 pounds, so what made me think adding gravity to the equation would make things easier? There is a facet of the pull-up machine at the gym that allows you a little boost to complete the process. I was able to finish my subsequent sets.

I left the gym, after a 10 minute cool down walk on the treadmill, pleased with my free weight performance, but still this nagging feeling about my prospects of running.

The Breakdown of the Day:

The Workout:




Like what you are reading? Show me the love by donating to my Fred's Team NYC Marathon Page!