A few days ago I wrote about barriers.
For me, the biggest barrier to exercise has often been mental rather than physical. Getting through the door of the gym, getting into a busy swimming lane, or being willing to run where other people can see me has historically required considerably more effort than it probably should.
Something seems to be changing.
Over the last few days, the problem hasn’t been persuading myself to exercise.
It’s been making sure I’m actually eating enough to support how much I want to do.
That’s quite a strange sentence for me to write.
Monday night: running in plain sight
Monday evening finished with the second session of my six-week return-to-running programme.
I’m still being deliberately cautious after injuring my calf. The objective isn’t to prove that I can run again; it’s to progressively rebuild the calf’s tolerance until I can comfortably run 5km again.
This particular session was psychologically significant too.
I did it at an athletics club.
I wasn’t on the track itself, but I was just off to the side, surrounded by athletes and very much in view. Not long ago I would have been acutely conscious of being the overweight bloke doing short run/walk intervals while ‘proper runners’ trained around me.
This time I simply got on with it.
Nobody cared.
More importantly, neither did I.
The first four running efforts were completely symptom-free. During the final two I could just about perceive the calf — perhaps 1/10 — and as soon as I returned to walking it disappeared again.
The following morning?
Nothing. 0/10.
That’s exactly the response I wanted.
Tuesday: sometimes exercise just happens
Tuesday’s exercise wasn’t really planned.
My daughter and I decided to go rollerblading.
What started as a spontaneous bit of fun turned into 8.15 km and just under 50 minutes of skating around the countryside. Garmin recorded an average heart rate of 149 bpm, so despite it feeling like we were simply out enjoying ourselves, physiologically I was putting in a decent amount of work.
And it was hard work.
Rollerblading at my current weight certainly isn’t effortless, and there were periods where my cardiovascular system was being properly challenged.
But that’s almost what made it so enjoyable.
There was no treadmill display. No machine telling me how many repetitions I’d completed. No prescribed workout to tick off.
We were just outside.
There is something wonderfully liberating about rolling along through the countryside under your own power. Push, glide, freewheel, recover a little, then go again.
My heart rate told one story — that I was getting a meaningful cardiovascular workout — while my head experienced something quite different.
I was playing outside with my daughter.
That’s increasingly becoming one of my favourite discoveries during this whole process: exercise doesn’t always need to look like training to produce a training effect.
And once again, the calf?
0/10.
Wednesday morning: headphones on
This morning was completely different.
Legs and core in the gym. On my own.
I put DJ X on Spotify, put my headphones in and followed the programme.
And I loved it.
There was no anxiety about who else was there. No wondering whether somebody was looking at what I was lifting. I was much more interested in what I was doing.
I concentrated on posture.
I concentrated on form.
I slowed things down where necessary and tried to make every repetition a good one rather than simply moving a weight from A to B.
When some of the suggested starting weights were obviously too light, I increased them.
Leg press, hamstring curls, leg extensions, hip abduction and adduction, cable core presses and planks. About 45 minutes of deliberate, structured work.
The difference between this and some of my earlier experiences in the gym is difficult to quantify.
Previously, success could simply mean getting myself through the door.
Now I’m standing there thinking about whether my posture could be better on the next repetition.
That’s progress.
Not a number Garmin can necessarily measure, but progress nonetheless.
And the calf remained completely silent.
Then the bike came back
This afternoon was the session I’d probably been looking forward to most.
My bike wheels are finally back. I refitted them, serviced the bike and today I got to take it outside again.
Better still, my daughter came with me.
It was 27°C, clear skies and very strong sunshine, so this certainly wasn’t a cool, effortless recovery ride. We covered just over 22 km in a little over an hour, and my heart rate showed that even though we were riding together and enjoying ourselves, my body was still doing plenty of work.
But much like yesterday’s rollerblading, the numbers don’t really tell the best part of the story.
I was back on my bike.
Outside.
With my daughter.
The wheels were turning, the sun was shining and I wasn’t staring at a wall while pedalling indoors.
I really enjoy Zwift and it has an important place in what I’m doing, but there is something about riding a real bike outside that simply can’t be replicated.
The wind, the changing scenery, the little climbs, the descents where you get to stop pedalling and just let the bike run.
That feeling of free movement is difficult to beat.
And after this morning’s leg session, followed by more than an hour on the bike in the heat, my calf still felt perfect.
A new problem: fuel
Ironically, the biggest challenge over these few days hasn’t been finding the motivation to exercise.
It has been eating enough.
That feels almost ridiculous considering one of the primary reasons I’m doing all of this is to lose a significant amount of weight.
I’ve spent years thinking about food in terms of eating too much.
Now I’m finding myself finishing active days with enormous calorie deficits because I’m simply not particularly hungry.
One day I finished on only 1,122 calories, despite having trained. Protein was only 91g as well.
That’s not something I’m particularly proud of and, importantly, it’s not the target.
There’s a difference between maintaining a sensible calorie deficit to lose weight and simply failing to provide enough energy for the work I’m asking my body to perform.
That’s something I’m having to learn.
If I’m strength training, swimming, cycling, rollerblading and progressively returning to running, food isn’t simply something that needs restricting.
Food is also fuel and recovery.
Protein matters because I’m trying to preserve — and hopefully build — muscle while losing weight.
Carbohydrate matters because I’m actually using it.
Recovery matters because there’s no point constructing an ambitious training programme if I gradually run myself into the ground because I’m obsessed with creating the biggest possible calorie deficit.
Today provided a slightly amusing example.
After this morning’s leg session, my trainer looked at my food diary and essentially told me to eat a banana before going cycling.
So I did.
A grown man being instructed to eat a banana because apparently I’m now exercising too much for my diet.
There are worse problems to have.
The objective has changed
This might be the biggest shift I’ve noticed.
A few weeks ago, I was trying to create opportunities to exercise.
Now I’m having to manage how much exercise I do.
I’m having to think about recovery.
I’m having to think about fuelling.
I’m having to resist the temptation to do more simply because I’m enjoying it.
And, perhaps most importantly, I’m beginning to trust my body again.
The calf injury frustrated me enormously because running had finally started becoming something I wanted to do again. But I’ve resisted the temptation to rush the recovery. I’m following a six-week programme back to 5km and, despite the calf now feeling completely normal through running, rollerblading, strength training and cycling, I’m sticking to it.
Because the objective isn’t to prove that I’m fit today.
The objective is to still be doing this tomorrow, next month and next year.
Three very different sessions over the last couple of days have reminded me why.
One was spontaneous fun with my daughter.
One was me, alone in a gym with DJ X in my ears, concentrating on becoming stronger.
One was getting back outside on a bike I’ve desperately missed riding.
All three were exercise.
All three challenged me in different ways.
And all three made me feel good.
Perhaps that’s the real Shift-Spark happening.
I’m not forcing myself to exercise because I need to lose weight.
I’m losing weight so I can increasingly enjoy doing all the things I’m rediscovering that I love.
Now I just need to remember to eat enough to keep doing them.
