Rotten to the Core

My third core workout with T3 “happened to me” today.  I use the passive past tense because something was clearly being done to me during the workout.   Since January 1, I’ve been doing 1-2 core workouts a week, including planks, situps, pushups, lots of ab work, and definitely noticed some improvement.

Maurice identified “core” as a key area of focus for me, from now until November, and so I planned on at least two core workouts per week.

My first core workout with T3 was two weeks ago, and it was tough.  I also followed it up with spin class, which was a great two hour workout.

My second core workout with T3 was last Thursday, and it chewed me up and spit me out.   I followed it up with spin class, where I hung on for dear life just trying to keep up the cadence and not cramp up.

My third core workout with T3 was this afternoon, and it made the previous two look like child’s play. I’ve never failed to finish every set in a workout in my life.  That’s right.  I did not complete a single set of the exercises successfully, i.e. I couldn’t keep going, had to rest, broke form, or had some other failure, in every single set.  Some sets were only 20 seconds.  Failed.  Some sets were arm work.  Failed.  Some were core work.  Failed.  Some were pushups, situps, leg raises, crunches.  Failed, failed, failed, failed.  The room being swelteringly hot didn’t help either, but even in an igloo I would have struggled with every single exercise.  I’m proud to say I gave it everything I had.  But apparently in the core department I don’t start with a lot of assets.   This won’t be like swimming where it’s rediscovering my stroke, or like running, where strength comes from just doing the workouts, and I seem to be somewhat built to handle longer and longer runs.   This will be an all out war, where my body gets crushed week after week and comes back for more, and slowly over time the workouts might feel possible.

Its pretty cool to face a challenge, know you are going to fail, and still put everything you have into it.   Imagine the football huddle where everyone is screaming “We’re going to get demolished!  We’re going to get pulverized!!” and still running hard on to the field.   That’s the spirit, you moron.   This “maybe I’m a masochist” theory is getting stronger by the day.  I like it better than “maybe I’m a moron.”

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