Juneathon day 19 - strength training: turns out I don't have any strength

Another day of not in the zone. I decided yesterday that I wouldn't run today, for fear of making my adductor problem worse. I have a number of things coming up for which I really need full use of my legs so in this instance discretion is the better part of valour, and means a day off running. I toyed with the idea of walking but that seems like a pretty puny substitute for running, plus it's really hot outside... So, after a massive amount of humming and hawing I decided to try some strength training (which I know will make the boyfriend very happy indeed - all the weights and other instruments of torture in the man cave belong to him).

A reminder of all the scary weights
in the man cave

 

Since I started running again in January all I've done is run. Running, running and yet more running. I know I need to mix it up a bit, and I also know that if I had a stronger core and all that other stuff then I'd be less likely to get injured etc etc. In short, I know that strength training is a good thing. But I really, really don't like doing it. That said, I do like the results. Years ago I had a personal trainer who used to make me do lots of weights, in addition to running (hello Kate, if you're reading!). During that glorious time I actually developed something approximating the very baby beginnings of a six pack (perhaps a two pack?) and had lovely toned upper arms. All good. 

Running 4-5 times a week regularly since January has given me thighs of steel. Seriously. My thighs are pure muscle. Muscles which are actually visible to the naked eye rather than hidden under a layer of fat. They are AWESOME. Also my arse is fairly steely too. This is all good. However it would be better still if the rest of my body matched - abs and arms of steel are quite some way off. Still, all that's needed is a few press ups, sit ups etc and job's a good 'un, right? Ahahahahaha. 

So it turns out that I have pretty much no strength at all in any muscles other than my thighs. It's a wonder I have the strength to get dressed in the mornings. My boyfriend doesn't have any weights light enough for me to be able to do a significant number of repetitions of anything. Never mind, I thought, plenty of exercises for which you can use your own body weight. If only it were that simple. Press ups? Can't do any (although to be fair I could perhaps have done some from a kneeling position but my knees still won't let me kneel on them). Sit ups? Just about managed 20, moving an infinitesimal amount barely visible to the naked eye. The plank? Much as I used to hate the plank with every ounce of my being, there was a time when I could hold it for a minute. Now - 10 seconds felt like quite a stretch. Oh. My. God. 

My pride has taken quite the beating in the light of this feeble performance. Not helped at all by my mother (68) informing me that she can do full press-ups now (from the toes and everything!). Room for improvement, and I will certainly try and build strength training in as a more regular part of my routine once Juneathon is over. In the meantime, I really hope to be able to run again tomorrow rather than have to torture myself further. One glimmer of hope in all of this is that the prospect of running for 90 minutes doesn't phase me at all now, whereas it would have filled me with horror back in the day, two pack or no two pack.