In early 2008 I read a blog posting (unfortunately out of print) extolling the virtues of a seemingly alternate approach to peak fitness. The writer, a former professional athlete, set forth the notion that a loosely structured training approach comprising mainly of low-level aerobic activity complemented by occasionally “Caveman workouts” was the way forward to peak performance and a healthy lifestyle.
He went on to describe how his own athletic endeavours had evolved from the more flat line approach of conventional consistency to one where short daily jogging and errand-running cycling flowed into an almost once-weekly brief workout of maximum intensity. “I'm left dizzy and nauseous from the effort and completely spent,” he related going onto to explain how he just jogged and indulged in other low-intensity activities for the remainder of the week.
This article had a lasting impression on me, even at the time of reading given I was in the midst of my over-training years. I couldn't do that I said to myself although deep down I must admit to envying the author in his unique approach. In short, I desired to follow his example yet my own rigidity prevented any such notion of actually doing so.
And how the times have changed.
Getting out of one's own way is critical in moving forward in any endeavour I guess. Training and competition is an ever-evolving form of art. Ask Laurent Vidal, former Olympian and coach to the innate talent that is Kiwi Andrea Hewitt. An approach the moves with the ebbs and flows of life is always going to outlast one cast in the stone of mediocrity, ego and peer pressure. There is time extend oneself and a time to scale back. The exact specifics vary from person to person, but the basic philosophy remains steadfast: you are the foremost expert in what is right for you.
The first quarter of this year saw my sporting focus revolve around long, slow distance. A weekly jaunt of a couple of hours was what The Session constituted at the time. It felt like the right thing to do, dictated predominantly by my mood and energy levels. Any form of intensity just did not seem practical, or even conceivable. Now with around a month since my ultra-marathon adventure, my body and mind seem to be seeking a new stimulus, no doubt influenced my several contributing factors.
Balance has many guises and applications and endurance sport is a great example. After a month of low key activity off the back of extended amount of LSD, several weekly gut-busting sessions seem like the way forward. To compromise my self-enforced eschewing of competition for the next while, this weekly “burn up” is a great alternative and far less taxing, both physically and mentally. A weekly burn or a short race – I can't do both – is what the body and mind require at this stage, the former being the most compatible with my current lifestyle.
Late afternoon last Sunday saw me jog several minutes to the steep grass incline in the local greenbelt. Walking up the incline to maintain composure and form, I launched into my first effort to test my legs. The body felt loose and light and a few minutes went by in a flash. A brief respite to the cluster of pines adjacent to the tar road saw another effort and respite, this time on a slight uphill. Sprinting up the last hill past the park around a half-hour later signalled the conclusion of my first extension in a long while. Runner's High was indeed evident as I slowed to a jog and then to a homeward-bound walk. Exertion gave way to exhilaration.
Suddenly, a sage friend's words from way back entered my conscious, like it was yesterday. After initially agreeing to meet for our usual Friday evening jog, all notions of an tranquil end to the working week were thrown out of the proverbial window after the second bridge-crossing. The last twenty minutes were a race (he won) but that didn't matter; we were both exhilarated by a supreme effort because our bodies and minds were instinctively ready for it.
Upon my finishing around half-a-minute behind him, we both had a look of euphoria on our faces, both relishing the effort but also knowing that these sorts of sessions are not exactly dime a dozen; they should be done sparingly.
We both knew it, we both were thinking it and then he said it:
"That was great Jason, but we mustn't do this too often."
