Whirring away on the treadmill, I contemplate my new indoor life. I’m living in an artificial light zone. All frosted glass, mirrors, polished wooden floors, TV screens and 16 channels on the gym’s in-house entertainment system. I’m confined here in this world of sweat and Lycra for the foreseeable future, with my tibialis posterior – that ankle muscle – acting up again and making it a bit painful to jog on the hard, unforgiving road. But I am worried. Will training just in the gym get me fit enough for the marathon? Is pounding the treadmill as good as road running? I consult the web.
And happily the Americans have sorted it all out. Their medics have tested the cardio-vascular effectiveness of treadmills and found them to be tip-top. They have even produced a treadmill champion. Last year, Dr Christine Clark, a 37-year-old pathologist, was the shock winner of the US Olympic marathon trials in a time of 2.33.31. She came from Alaska and, because of the icy roads and rather chilly winds, did her entire training schedule on a treadmill – 70 miles a week. It’s simple then: do it indoors, with warmth, drinks on tap, TV and a sweat towel.
But there are a few basic rules. The treadmill is a moving road. In order to go forward, you simply need to lift your legs from the conveyor belt. Road running knackers you out because you need to use your muscles to push off the ground and propel yourself forward.
So you need to reproduce the effort of the road – along with the potential wind resistance – which means running at a slight incline: between 1.5 and 2 degrees, they say. There is the added advantage of being able to alter the incline to suit the course you are about to complete. If you could be bothered, you could probably programme in the exact course of the London marathon into the treadmill – hills and inclines.
The Americans, though, do add one warning. Avoid watching TV or reading a magazine because this reduces your work-out intensity. I never really understood what this meant until I watched an action replay of the Liverpool vs Tranmere Rovers match on the gym TV last Monday. As Steven Gerrard lunged forward to head the ball into the back of Tranmere’s net, I unconsciously replicated the action and ended up on the floor, the rubber conveyor whistling by my ear and a hundred mocking eyes witnessing my embarrassment.
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