Apparently running at a constant speed 3 days a week will not in fact make you run faster or tone your entire body. For a full body work out you have to do what is known in the fitness world as The Devils Game “Cross Training”. I believe everybody is aware of my stance on this subject and I will therefore no go into any greater detail than is necessary to explain my most recent “CS” experience.
For a number of months now I have been going to a morning bootcamp class which consists of stabbing yourself hundreds of times and then pouring hot lava over your entire body. Okay not exactly, but short of actually doing those things, you do feel like you’ve been to hell and back once you’re done. Energized and sore… apparently something people like feeling. Personally I go because I get to skinner for an hour before work and get the scoop on the newest bars around town.
It has become apparent in the last few months that the Drill Sergeant (whom I love, don’t get me wrong) that teaches the class wishes to light a fire under my proverbial ass and make me run faster. This would not be such a bad thing if she literally gave me a rocket and strapped it to me. The problem lies in the fact that she wants me to train. Like really train. Urgh.
And because I can no longer ignore her annoying encouraging words when it’s comes to speed (and my apparent lack thereof), I therefore decided it was time to get back into speed training, properly this time. The Drill Sergeant got overexcited and booked my calendar for three time trials this week.
I managed to get out of Monday by drinking (shocker) but yesterday there was no avoiding it and I arrived at The Evil Place with the promise of drinkies after the run.
Me: How long is this little run of death?
DS: 3km’s Crazii, I think you’ll cope.
Me: That’s what you said about last Saturdays race.
DS: It wasn’t my fault that Granny beat you.
Me: She was not a Granny, she was about 30. Again, proof of what constant running in the sun does to your skin.
DS: Right, so you’ll start at the top of the hill…’
Me: Hill… who found a hill in Florida! Is that where the new bar is?!?!?
DS: Please stop asking me that Crazii. And then you will run four km’s around the area…’
Me: WHAT?! YOU SAID THREE! THREE YOU SAID!’
DS: And then the last two km’s will be running up the hill back to the start’
Me: UP THE WHAT?!
DS: Feel free to do the run twice.
Me: I’d rather set myself on fire.
Me: You promised me this was a 3Km run.
DS: Once you’ve done 3km’s you may as well do another three.
Me: How’s your logic?!
Six hellish km’s later and a lot of swearing, I finished. As promised I was allowed a few celebratory drinkies.
Me: There’s something very right about sitting in running clothes having glasses of wine.
DS: There’s something very wrong about you having four glasses of wine.
Me: Yes, but once you’ve had three, you may as well have another three.
DS: That’s not what I meant.
Me: Works both ways sista.
