Alek has become quite the workout fiend since the fire academy last summer. He gets very antsy if it has been more than 24 hours since his last workout. And he is really into these wacky cross fit workouts — workouts, that frankly, I am mostly incapable of doing and the bits I can do make me want to barf. Most of his workouts are circuits where “resting” is running at a 6.0 on the treadmill and include dozens and dozens of burpees, which I refer to as “barfees.” (God, I hate burpees. I’d rather run a half marathon than do 20 burpees. I’m not even kidding). He gets excited about new ways to combine these torturous activities – like the latest – a burpee where at the top you “kip” into a pull-up. Ugh.
ANYWAY, he looks fantastic.
Our schedules are so crazy that we really don’t get to workout together very often. Which is OK because I’m always so torn when we do workout together. Part of me feels like I’m just SSSSOOOOO SSSSSLLLLLOOOOWWW and SSSSSOOOO WEAK and I’m holding him back from what he really wants to be doing – 8 minute miles and burpees burpees burpees. Part of me has a little bit of that nervous and excited butterfly-in-my-stomach type energy, because whenever I workout with Alek I feel like he’s raising the bar and I’m pushing myself harder than I normally would.
Our friend Ben says that if you don’t feel like you’re going to puke at the end of a workout, you’re not working out hard enough and he’s pretty fit and pretty bad-ass, so I tend to believe him. Alek can motivate me to get to that “I’m-so-hard-core-I-feel-like-I’m-gonna-puke” feeling. Last summer, the first time I went running with Alek, he challenged me to sprint to the finish, and so I did because I wanted him to think I was awesome. And I promptly puked at the end. He thought that was awesome, but not the kind of awesome I was originally thinking.
Tonight we went on a little 5-Mile loop and there was a pretty decent hill at the end. I, of course, wanted to show Alek how awesome I was and so I made this big deal out of saying “I’m gonna run all the way up that hill without stopping,” put in my headphones, found a power-song and took off.
And I did it. It was a billion degrees outside, I was tired and I was hungry and I was stressed and didn’t want to even be out there, but I did it. I ran all the way up that hill.
And promptly puked my guts out at the top.
So I have a new goal. It’s not to complete the next half marathon or lose weight or look better or be stronger. No, no. I just want to go on a run with Alek without throwing up at the end. This will probably be my most challenging fitness goal ever, but I am determined to succeed. Or at the very least, to find a nice, shady, short, mostly downhill trail for our next workout.