The third and final approach I am championing in my quest to get my fat harris a little smaller is the introduction of a gym regime. I have also cut out the booze.
My place of work is away from where I live so I spend a majority of the working week away from my lovely partner (Karen – who you will be introduced to as we go along because I can’t see any way of completing this challenge without her support)… Right enough gushy, where was I? Oh yeah, I work away from home during the week but luckily the building I work in has a gym.
Last week I approached the gym instructor, Dominic, and asked for him to create a regime for me to follow that would complement my riding at the weekends. In particular I was looking at promoting the loss of weight, working on my overall fitness and building leg muscle. He was very good and we agreed an approach.
My regime will be;
- Monday – Vipr class
- Tuesday – Fitness and leg work
- Wednesday – Spinning Class
- Thursday – Fitness and leg work
We agreed I would start the following Monday (yesterday) and I was very excited this was all kicking off. I’m not sure if you know what Vipr classes are, I certainly didn’t know when I signed up. But regardless, this was all starting and life was a positive old bean. I was attempting something aggressive to ensure maximum possible chance of completing the LEJOG challenge I have set myself and anyway, how hard can it be?
That was yesterday, this is today and I swear to you here and now, this morning I felt like I wanted to die.
In my best whiny American accent, OH-MY-GOD!!!
And for reference, Vipr classes involve a circuit like approach with weighted tubes. Each exercise stage targets different parts of the body. There were three laps of the circuit. After the first of these I remember thinking, ‘huh, whats the big deal?’. After the third of the circuits, well I dont remember anything. And I have no idea how much time each of these stages involved. The first couple seem to last about two minutes, the last couple seem to last about a week.
My back screamed, my legs buckled, my arms exploded and my lungs just gave up and walked home alone muttering something about not having to take this anymore.
So if I am stupid enough to ask how hard can it be. Well the answer is fooking hard.
I panted like a rabbid dog, I sweated like a 70s Top of The Pops presenter with the police at my door. It was so bad that I struggled to use the stairs afterwards. I died and just when I thought it was bad, I woke up this morning to a stiffness that is causing me all kinds of trouble at work (when I walk it looks like I’ve sh!t myself).
I know in my second entry in this blog (The Hardest Part of a Long Journey…) I bragged about how easy all this training was… Well I admit it now, I was an idiot. The training is difficult but to be fair there is a lot of work to do and it’s all part and parcel. If I don’t put the effort in then my challenge in September will be extremely difficult as opposed to just difficult.
Focus, fatty, focus!!!