I'm Back on the Treadmill Again
Back where a splat point's my friend
I had more energy than I did during my workouts in Week 1. I hopped on the treadmill and our instructor, Elia, got us going. We spent roughly 25 minutes alternating between our base pace, and doing “pushes” of higher intensity. During the pushes, I kept my pace at a 3.5 but upped my incline to six percent. I could definitely feel it (super heavy breathing) but I hung in there. Once or twice, I’d bring the incline down and up my speed to 4 just to mix it up. I broke a serious sweat and knew I was getting a good workout.
After the treadmill we hit the rowers for a 1000-meter challenge. I was doing pretty well until I hit 461 meters. Yep, that’s when my quads started burning like mofos! Note to self and anyone else who is doing an intense workout – stretch before you exercise!! Yes, I know I’m supposed to. No, I didn’t do it. And I paid. I hopped off the rower and stretched my poor little fiery quads out. Then I got back on to finish that last 500+ meters. Our instructor, Elia, saw me and the next thing I knew, she was on the rower beside me. “Come on Kristi, you can do this! You’re almost there!” she cheered me on. That was pretty awesome. I was the last one to finish, but hey, it got done.
Despite my burning quads, I’m trying to stay focused on “what I burn for.” That’s Orangetheory Fitness’s big question—“What do you burn for?” I burn for preventing myself from becoming a diabetic and having the same health issues my parents now deal with. If I burned for looking like a swimsuit model I would’ve done this years ago. Nope. Health has got to be the motivating factor.
I had a long conversation with my parents about their Diabetes during my recent visit. They told me some things I’d forgotten over the years. And some of it freaked me out. Like, that they weren’t all that overweight when they were diagnosed. I now weigh more than they did when they were told they were diabetic. Crikey.
I asked how dealing with Diabetes has impacted them. Mom said, “It consumes your life. There's not a day that goes by that you don't think about it. There's not a meal you eat that you don't think about it. You never get a day off.”
She said she definitely recommends exercise, because it helps control your blood sugar numbers. This is a HUGE statement coming from her. She and Dad were late to the exercise party. They finally started working out in 2014 at around 70 years old, after my Dad had another heart catheterization. I’m really proud of them for doing it. I get my sedentary genes from them, so I know it takes motivation to get them to the gym.
Mom’s Diabetes is under control, but Dad’s isn’t. His numbers are all over the place. He’ll count his carbs and shoot the appropriate amount of insulin, but an hour or two later his blood sugar can be sky high. He’s working with his doctor to regulate it better.
I finally met their doctor. The infamous Dr. Musselman. He was very nice, and in the brief chat that we had, I asked him how to keep myself from following in Mom and Dad’s footsteps. The look on his face said, “You’re doomed.” Shit! He told me that exercise will help at least delay it (delay!?) and that I should go ahead and lay off eating sugar. “One coke has 30 teaspoons of sugar in it,” he said. “You should try to eat and drink things that have less than eight grams of sugar per serving.” 30 teaspoons?! Less than eight grams? But what about my beloved Malibu and Cokes?
A little freaked, I asked Mom to test my blood sugar. The next morning, on an empty stomach, she poked my finger with a needle. A small prick (get your mind out of the gutter) and a tiny drop of crimson emerged. I held my breath. The meter beeped. “109,” Mom said. “That’s in the normal range.”
Woohoo!!! What a relief! Normal and I want to keep it that way! I am definitely keeping up with this workout thing.
At the end of one of my workouts, Elia shared this quote from Jim Rohn: “Everyone must choose one of two pains. The pain of discipline or the pain of regret.”
I’m choosing discipline. I don’t want anymore regret.