Pain Tolerance

I woke Thursday morning and had an epiphany that I wanted to test the limitations of my pain tolerance as it relates to exercise.

The evening before, I attended a weekly “speed run” session that I signed up for. At that session I ran a little more than 7 (11 km) total miles, 4.5 (7.25 km) of which were at high intensity. The intensity marker used was my approximate 5 km road race pace.

When I woke on Thursday my legs were not exactly fresh. Usually I let myself recover immediately after a high intensity session. I was curious, though, about my body’s ability to rebound. When we are younger, after all, it’s common for training programs to force athletes into back-to-back high intensity sessions. It had been a few years since I’d tried something similar. Is my body still capable of repeat speed sessions?

I decided not to ingest a single calorie before the workout in order to add to the challenge. I had a cup of coffee and some water only.

I started with a 24 mile (38 km) bike ride along the Riverfront Trail. The cycling legs felt fresh and I maintained a moderately intense pace with relative ease, probably because cycling uses different movement patterns than running.

I returned home, drank some salted water, and immediately embarked on a 9 mile (14.5 km) run. I usually don’t engage in cycling and running back-to-back, but I wanted to attempt the double.

In the middle of the long run were 8 repeats of the following: half a mile at fast pace (a little slower than 5k race pace) and a quarter mile recovery jog. My fast pace was my fastest average yet and I maintained a consistent time for all 8 repeats. I did feel fatigued from the night before, but it was nice to see that maintaining race pace was still very manageable.

The session as a whole was one of my better workouts. More affirming was that I don’t necessarily need any calories to have a quality endurance workout. Sometimes we become overly dependent on calories for workout sustenance. Carbohydrates tend to be the fuel of choice. I suspect that they may not be as necessary as consensus seems to believe, at least for endurance activities. It’s freeing to be able to just “go for it” on an empty stomach. Word of caution if attempting this though: I routinely fast in the morning and have been doing so for years, so an “empty stomach exercise” was nothing new. The only unique part of this workout’s zero calorie attempt was the longevity of the session.

I spent the day sore, but I also still wanted to see just how far my own mileage could take me. I still had a free evening; maybe I’d try another bike ride! So after work, I logged another 21 mile (34 km) bike ride, also with moderate intensity. The ride could have lasted longer, but my left foot and leg started cramping. I did the cycling equivalent of a “limp to the finish line.” It was time to call it a day.

I woke several times throughout the night with severe cramps in both legs. Obviously I stressed the muscles more than was necessary. I don’t regret the attempt though; I think it’s important to overdo it every once in awhile; physical barriers are meant to be crossed. It’s important to know one’s own limitations, and the only way to truly know a limit is to push past it. Further, I don’t think it was the mileage that overtaxed me so much as it was the constant high intensity (emphasizing speed for several straight sessions).

I bring this up because I worry about the tendency with age to want to “keep things manageable.” We cross from childhood to adulthood and with that crossover can come a desire to have life more or less “figured out.” Failure should be kept to a minimum, we often think. How often are adults willing to “burn out in a blaze of glory!” We are supposed to have “made it,” which in theory means that discomfort steadily dissipates. Heaven forbid we struggle with something like we did when we were kids. Comfortable walks replace dangerous desert adventures.

I want to keep the habit of burning out in a blaze of glory. That’s the “maximalist” in me. Rather than keeping exercise “moderate” I think there is some value in sometimes (obviously not always) attempting a feat that is utterly unmanageable.

I did a recovery bike ride today along the Riverfront Trail. The legs definitely needed to heal a little after the previous night’s struggles.

Taking the time to appreciate my environs brought one obvious thing to the forefront: the city’s rabbit population is multiplying rapidly. While the American robins and geese claim the trail as their domain in the winter months, it seems to belong to the rabbits in summer.

A rabbit darted across my path every few minutes, likely fearful of the strange large two-wheeled object hauling itself forward that may or may not be a predator.

I stopped my bike ride and turned back when a flock of geese blocked the trail. One of the geese hissed and chased me for a bit. I couldn’t help but smile and submit. Let the geese have the trail, I say. Life’s too short to compete or threaten them back. There’s some beauty in a goose’s aggression. They’re just protecting their own, after all. Larger animals such as humans must be utterly terrifying to them.

Plus, there are plenty of other trails.