Friday is ‘no training day.’ Where I would usually wake at 5.30, leave at six, be in the pool/gym/on bike by 6.30 – I instead leave at around 7 or 8am. As a reward, I find myself sitting in my car, staring into the gloomy half-light as glaring brake lights offend my eyes.
I hate traffic.
I just hate wasting time. It’s so bloody…. unproductive.
These were my thoughts as I sat in the petrol wasting, painfully slow tailback that has one emerging onto the hell-road that is the M25 in rush hour.
My attitude remained angry until I checked my CD collection, and put on the Clash.
Joe Strummer roared out of my speakers with all the lack lustre angst and ‘I can’t be arsed’ spirit that I remember worshipping in my teens. I suppose it reminded me who it was I used to be before everything became so damn busy.
Yes, sitting in traffic is annoying, and yes, if I could have the choice again, I would have got up earlier, skipped the tin-can confinement and spent my non-training morning relaxing with a newspaper, but the experiecne did serve to remind me that sometimes – just sometimes – you need to stop.
I’m reading Joe Friel’s The Triathletes Bible once again and thinking a lot of planning, building, and most importantly – recovery.
I tend to see recovery as an irritating inconvenience, if I’m feeling buzzy, and a time to be a total slob, if I’m feeling exhausted. What I need to do, I think, is change my attitude, and see recovery as just as much a part of training as swimming, biking and running. I need to take recon very a bit more seriously.
Recovery time is a time for active relaxation, not for passing out on the sofa and sleeping. If that sort of recovery is needed, more than a day is probably on the cards! Recovery needs to be about giving myself time to be more than a racehorse, more than a machine, and just be my damn self. An athlete who feels like they are on a never-ending treadmill of training, working and sleeping is one who is likely to fail. Not me, then.