I’ve told this story before, but hold on, I’m going somewhere with it…
On the heels of Covid-19, the first place I went as soon as it was advisable for me to do so was the gym. I swam a kilometer. The following morning I went 37km on a stationary bike followed by a 20 minute jog at 9km/hour. It felt great to be able to do that while monitoring myself for myocarditis – a heat problem that seems all to common in people after having Covid-19. Everything was great.
Last week, I took my kid out for pizza (at a place that offers the vegan cheese, of course) and we celebrated a good report card. I had some food I don’t often eat, but not what I would call an absurd amount, no beer or anything – just a personal size vegan pizza and some fries.
Roughly 12 hours later, I went to the gym for a bike/run. I spent 60 minutes on the bike, and after about 15 of those minutes, I was feeling underpowered. At the 20 minute mark, I was giving myself a pep-talk. Just before 30 minutes; at the half way point, I started to wonder if I should bail and go home – not something I allow myself to do pretty much ever… and around the 37 minute mark I had finally overcome my greasy food obstacle. I finished my 60 minutes a couple km’s shy of where I like to be. At that point I hopped on the treadmill for a 15 minute jog, the first half of which was just torturous.
This was easily the hardest workout I’ve had in a great while and I gotta say, although it’s inevitable that I’ll have vegan junk food at some point in the future again, I may have to temper my expectations of physical performance before I attempt a serious workout with pizza in my belly.
That pizza knocked me down harder than Covid-19 did.
That’s not a statement about Covid-19. That’s a statement about my newfound intolerance to pizza.
Other than that, training was pretty great. I had a great swim on Tuesday and am holding fast to the program I’ve built, which is officially UP now. Take a look at it below! You can even save it and use it if you like.
The Conscious Pilgrim 