Gym Rats and Runners

As everybody already mostly knows, I love to run. See that big ole smile? That's me on my 60th, when I ran a kind of ok time for my second half-marathon.

I started training recently for my second full Marathon. If you want to run faster and better, and you want to build endurance and strength, you really have to do some strength training. Also, you really have to live in Montreal to experience Mother Nature's sense of humor. The winter temperature can vary from -30 (celsius) to above freezing in a half a day. I love a nice cold run: -20, sunny, cold and beautiful. You just have to know how to dress. But if it's super cold and snowy, and then it goes above freezing and everything melts, and then it rains and then it goes dow hard freezing again, and then it snows just a little bit? Then you've got a skating rink covered with a little bit of snow that's just enough so you can't see what you're landing on. 

For those days, and for my strength training, I go to the gym. 

I like gyms, kind of. I like the feeling of everyone playing. There's a lot of good hormones flying around too, and that reminds me of my real love, midwifery. It's fun watching people get their bodies strong. I like to see how everyone's body is so different. And of course I enjoy working out and pushing my body beyond what I may feel I'm capable of.

But there's a gym vibe that's just so different from the running feeling. I joined a new gym; I had a one hour session with a trainer who gave me a program and showed me where everything is. I went there for the second time, eager to try out my program. But of course I didn't know my way around that well yet. So I start my first exercise, I have to lie down. Fine, I found a spot and did my thing, its like a bridge except with holding one knee to your chest. 12 reps, 2 sets. All good.

The I had to do my lunges. The gym was crowded and I found my weights (10 pounds) and looked for a spot. I found a little spot facing the mirror where it looked to me like no one else was lifting weights or doing anything too complicated. I start my lunges. A guy came by, heading for the rack to my side. He gave a little-old-lady tut-tut and looked at me like "Get out of my way bitch". Whoa! I didn't feel good. In fact I went and found another spot. Laughs on him because he strutted off to the bench and started benching a plate - one plate, dude!, with a great deal of huffing and puffing and drama.

One of my kids benches 225 lbs, and his PR is 240. And I made that kid in this skinny old body (well, I was younger then). And I made four other ones too, all equally impressive. But hey, I'm not here for a pissing contest. In fact, I'm wondering why pissing contests exist in gyms at all. Everyone knows that bodies are different. Why not learn from your runner friends how to treat fellow athletes?

I know someone who regularly runs ultras. He did a marathon last year and cycled up to Ottawa (200 k), ran the race, then cycled back. I met him last week as he was headed out for a run with a buddy. He knows I run outside all winter so he invited me along - I told him I'd slow him down. He said, na we'll just run back and forth, all good.

Runners aren't so proud that way. We help each other out. Sure, we race against each other (why oh why did I let that lady get ahead of me last May?). But we treat each other well, and cooperation is the name of the game. So, next time you're at the gym, be nice. It'll improve your gains.

Get Physical

I joined the Y about five years ago because our bathroom was so disgusting ... that is, my husband had renovated it but I am very sensitive to the leftover emotions in buildings (ok, so get out your "she's too flaky" signs), and something very bad had happened in that bathroom at some point, and I just couldn't go in it. (We moved and our new house is fine.)

Anyway, back then, I joined the Y. 

I grew up an hour from the Rockies, so all winter was skiing and all summer was hiking. As soon as I was able (too soon in fact, I was only fourteen), I was off in the mountains on my own, hiking and wandering. I am no stranger to physical fitness. When my husband and I were done with trekking through the African continent, we started a farm in Italy where I was his main builder's helper, so I not only took care of four small children and maintained the household, but I also dug in the garden, hoed the potatoes, shovelled out the chicken coop, split wood, carried water from the spring, and hauled cement.

I was no stranger to physical exercise but my years as a suburban mother in a dingy outpost in Montreal had softened me. Just imagine my joy when I discovered that the Y has a running track suspended above the gym, where no one ever goes! I could run to my heart's content, all alone, and get into the zone without having to listen to music, other people, or CNN.

Last year we had a crisis and I decided that the gym membership had to go. It was a luxury. I could easily run outside until it was too cold, and use weights in the basement, and go cross country skiing.

NOT.

By last week, I felt awful. Flabby, tired, sleepy (different from tired), crabby, bitchy (different from crabby). Disillusioned (little voice saying, you are an idiot and you don't really make any difference at all).

I decided to get my membership back. That was three days ago. I went the first day and ran four k. The next day I did a yoga class that was actually not real yoga; it was punishing in its insistence on the core (as if the human body was a nuclear reactor). Then I took a day off. Yesterday I ran again. Since I started exercising again, I keep waking up in the morning. At seven. And wondering why I feel so good. 

So, of course, the answer is that I felt good - feel good - because I was using my physical body. Yes, I would rather be in the garden producing food for my family, or splitting wood that we had just brought in from the forest. But right now that's not happening, so do need to admit that the gym is where I get my exercise (champagne problem, yes, I realize that too)....

Whether we are born naturally, by cesarean section, with or without drugs. Whether our parents loved each other, or not, or even knew each other; whether the act of conception was desired or not, we all came from a home that looked a little bit like this:






We all come from the same elements, the same language of blood and oxygen runs through our veins and arteries.We are pinned to the material world with our bodies. And they are flesh, blood, bones, and muscle. Among other things. And we need to use them, actually we need to test their limits, like a child does, we need to run so hard we get tired. We need to lift things that are too heavy, so that we have to put them down. We need to jump higher.

Ride a bicycle. Go for a walk. Do yoga. Run. Lift weights. Use your body, and your body will be happy.