medals

Training: A Healthy Pastime or Horrible Addiction?

This is a topic I have just written a 3,000 word university essay on, as it is currently being marked I’ll have to save the publication of that for a later date.

There’s a certain amount of admiration given to all athletes, be it the guy that won the high school race or the olympic champion. People pay respect to the people that work hard and get the results. And after all, like we’re taught from a young age, it’s the taking part that counts, right?
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It’s 5am and you wake up to the horrible drone of the iPhone alarm, quickly hitting snooze so it can pleasure your ears again 5 minutes later. 
Training is in 30 minutes but you still can’t bring yourself to go down for breakfast or brace the cold, wet morning knowing that your bed is warm & dry.
You just about conquer the step out of bed, pull on some kit and head down to the kitchen, praying that in some miracle a full english has been cooked waiting for you. However the morning weetabix taste surprisingly similar to the day before, but you know it’s gotta be eaten. Flacking in training is not an option.
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Healthy lifestyle, healthy mind.
Arriving at training you look around and that couldn’t seem farther from the truth. Dull and weary; everyone is feeling the same. There’s some comfort knowing that the rest of the team are going through the same thing, but all with the same question on the mind.
‘why are we doing this?’
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If you miss training you feel guilty, groggy, lazy. You know it’s not been done, you’ll never make that time back, the goals are one step further away. 
So you go, you go because you have to, your mind won’t let you not. You want to be faster, bigger, stronger, better, whatever the aim of the session may be, “you’ll feel better for it afterwards”.
An hour, how hard can it be? A OWA. 1 hour. Of my life.
10 minutes in it still feels easy.
20 minutes in you want it to stop.
30 minutes in you’re ready to stand up.
29:59 left, I can do this.
29:50….
29:45….
29:30…..
It goes through your head that you’ll quit all sport the moment you finish. You’ll never do this again, it’s pointless, pain for no reason. I’d much rather be out on the lash, or tucked up in bed.
Eventually, in what feels like a few hours later, it ends. You feel tired, achey. But there’s a strange feeling in your chest, a relief, a happiness? that it’s finished. You’ve improved and feel better for it, you almost want more. But are you getting better, or just fuelling the addiction?
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So off we go to Kaha’s next destination.. work/uni/home. We feel tired and hungry ticking away the seconds until we could have a little nap or a bite to eat. Resisting the urge to eat the protein bar in your pocket until you know it’s time, constantly making trips to the water fountain to maximise hydration.

Off out for lunch, finally! everyone gets a pint, you’d love to but the voice in your head won’t let you. You’ve got training. You can’t do it, you have to be the ‘boring one’. Fantastic. You know desert is too unhealthy & just a main won’t fill you up. Lunchtime becomes a constant strain on your wallet.
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And so we go again, work, then off to the second session. This is even harder than the first because you have the fatigue lingering in your legs. We could just miss it though right? The little voices battle for a few minutes before you finally reside yourself to just getting on with it.
“Just do it”
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