Day 7
Today was a reminder that at age 35 I don’t bounce back from food and drinking like I used. Actually, I guess the real story is that training makes me realize how bad food and alcohol can impact my body. Last night I watched UFC until about 1:15 in the morning with my buddies, which was accompanied with beer, chips, wings and pizza. Correction…pepperoni pizza. Oh and I live in New York, so pizza is legitimate pizza here.
In the interest of full disclosure I am not an elite runner or one of these guys who counts every calorie. I am not nutritionist or any kind of health expert. I typically eat practically, meaning I try to eat towards the healthy side because it feels better. So my typical diet involves black coffee, 0% Fage Greek yogurt, salad, an assortment of fish and grilled chicken, with an occasional beer or single malt scotch mixed in. Of course I have my steak nights with my buddies or ice cream with my nieces and nephews but the draw of food like that becomes less attractive when you feel it. The truth that taste is really subjective because a cheeseburger may taste good until you become aware of how that cheeseburger feels. So when you eat a cheeseburger every day, your body grows accustomed to it. When you slam your body with pizza, chips and beer after 9:00 pm when it hasn’t dealt with that in probably six months to a year, your body is quick to remind you that it doesn’t taste as good.
So today, I rose from bed feeling the weight of these beers, the wings and the pepperoni. I gulped down some water, brewed coffee and replanted myself on my couch. After some fiddling with work, doing some reading and trying to recuperate, I went out for my planned run. I could tell within a mile I would struggle. I pushed through the humidity and pains eminating from my stomach. I felt my lips and the back of my throat drying out. But I knew I just needed four and half miles to finish out the first week, so I got there, because I know I can get to 4.5 miles even in that condition.
I can pretend that this kind of struggle is part of the process, but it doesn’t have to be. The real truth is that I am permitted slip ups in moderation but I needed the reminder that I would rather have preferred to have eased back last night and been able to push for a little longer today. The beer and the wings were good, but they really weren’t worth the miles I lost.
One week down.
