Just a quick one, but I wanted to get this off my chest, and there's no better place than one's own blog. In my last post I raved about the benefits of training and how, finally, it was actually working for me. Well, I learnt another valuable lesson yesterday, one I have learnt before but continue to ignore... and that is the lesson of over-training. Or simply over-doing it.
On yet another wet summers day yesterday, I went back down to the Climbing Works for the second successive training session (I climb Saturday/Sunday, Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday usually) and realised after roughly 20 minutes that I wasn't going to be able to stay long. I hurt. All over. My legs ached. My back was sore. My arms felt as though molten lead was pumping through them. My tennis elbow flared up in my left arm. My knuckles looked like plumb grapes, all swollen out of proportion on my fat fingers - they hurt too... quite a lot. In summary, there was no way I was training again the next day (today).
When you hurt, it's your body's way of telling you to rest. Listen to it. Things will only get worse if you don't.
I was supposed to be heading to the Roaches for a climbing trip this bank holiday weekend but the weather has put a stop to those plans. There will be no one climbing on those beautiful rocks over the next few days, as lashings of rain strike the country, hard and repeatedly. So I'll take a couple of days off methinks. Maybe go for a climb sometime over the weekend. But with a Font trip lined up for October, now might be the perfect time to take a week or two off and get back to training ahead of the trip. I know my fingers would appreciate it. And with the abhorrent weather set to continue for a short while, it might just be fate... if you believe in that hocus pocus malarkey.