Tag Archives: fitness

The One In Charge Of Me

In the here & now, , , ,

PT

My weekly appointment with the Bitch in the bathroom was banjaxed slightly this week given that I wasn’t here. I have to admit, in the past my Asshole voice would have immediately latched onto the fact that there was going to be a longer-than-normal interval between weigh-ins, and positioned it as a reason why I should take my foot off the gas, you know? Cut myself a bit of slack…I’m happy to report that this time I was having none of it.

I weighed myself a day early on Saturday, and I’d lost one pound. This morning I went for the pincer movement and got weighed again and I’m delighted to report that another of the little blighters has melted away at some point over the weekend, so despite the treats I’ve allowed myself, the balanced approach of earning the right to indulge and managing it within my food plan has paid off. I need to be a bit careful, I mean come on, I’m in danger of behaving like I’m actually the one in charge here. Oh…wait a minute…that’s right, I am 🙂

I was thinking you know, that I should probably try and get a couple of gym sessions in this week whilst I’m off work. I’m still a long way from being fit, and my Cuba Trek is now only 5 months away. That’s twenty weeks…sweet Jesus that’s hurtling towards me like a freight train. I know I have the elliptical here at home and I’m walking a fair bit, but I’m starting to realise that it’s not enough. In fact, it’s nowhere near enough.

When I was in the gym at the hotel yesterday, I wouldn’t exactly say I was pacing myself  against the proper people who looked like they belonged there but I couldn’t help comparing their pace to mine, and it dawned on me that in fitness terms I’m still more of a sloth than a cheetah. And whilst I know I don’t necessarily need to be a cheetah to conquer that mountain range, I do need some of the key ingredients that I’m missing, like stamina and strength.

I have neither. Which is kind of a flaw in my plan, right? In comparison to where I was, I’m a rock star. And mentally, I’ve got it all going on, but in terms of being where I need to be physically, I’m barely off the blocks.

I think this has got to be my reality check. The gravitas of what I’ve committed to has finally made it as far as ringing the bell in my head. Over five days I need to trek 90km of rough terrain, in heat and humidity, and as of right now I still weigh 257lbs. What the actual fuck have I done.

I’m going to have to join a gym aren’t I? I’m looking at it every which way up, and without a proper plan – and someone to push me – there’s no way I’m pulling this off. And there’s no way I’m backing out either, so much as I hate the idea and God knows how I’m going to find time, I think I’m going to have to. It’s time to dig in and start really fucking hurting. I need a Jillian or a Bob in my life. Someone who’s going to make me throw up in a bucket without allowing me break my stride on the treadmill.

To be honest, the very thought of it terrifies me, in fact it makes me want to bungee jump into a river of cheese balls and stay there until the world goes dark. My hamstring is still sore from doing the splits five weeks ago, my knee still hurts a bit and whilst I can walk for maybe five miles or so before I need a breather, that’s an awfully long way from match-fit. However. The responsibility of being the one in charge of me means I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. The longer term benefits outweigh the fact that in the short term I just about want to shit my pants at the thought. I just need to man up and go for it.

Rightio. Best find a gym then.

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Trying My Best To Love It

In the here & now, , ,

hate it

I wonder how much longer it’s going to be until I can say that I actually enjoy doing a workout on this cross-trainer…any ideas? I’m starting to think I won’t ever get there. I mean it’s been two months now since it moved in and spoiled the feng shui in my bedroom, and I still have to force myself to climb aboard the damn thing and show willing.

If I’m brutally honest its very presence annoys me, and whilst I’m grateful for the effect it’s having in helping me build my fitness from the lowest possible base, I wish I could tuck it away somewhere unobtrusive. I guess that’s the drawback of living in a cottage the size of a shoebox, especially when you have a grown up man-child who shows no inclination of leaving home!

Everyone who knows about these things tells me that I’ll get to the point where I can just go into a zone for hours, without batting an eyelid. I’ve stopped calling it the hurt machine now because the reality is, it doesn’t really hurt that much any more. I no longer climb off feeling like I need hooking up to an iron lung and my legs function normally even after 45 minutes of activity…mind you I haven’t tinkered with the harder settings yet so I’m sure there’s more pain to rediscover at some stage. To be fair it’s not the pain I’m bothered about. It’s the boredom.

I’ve tried listening to music whilst I’m beavering away, and if the music’s not helping me get into my stride it’s planted right in front of a TV , so there’s no shortage of entertainment. I’ve got five hundred channels at my fingertips right there, but I still lose the will to live within the first ten minutes. Pushing through pain became the norm, certainly in the early days and I got quite adept at that but I’m here to tell you that pushing through the boredom is proving a much harder nut to crack.

How is it, that I can be completely gripped by some drama or other when I’m sitting in the armchair doing nothing more strenuous than stroking the dog, and yet the minute I’m strutting my funky stuff and breaking a bead of sweat upstairs in front of the same entertainment menu, nothing holds my interest beyond the first five minutes..? I invariably end up risking life and limb flicking through the channels whilst I’m mid-stride and given the amount of moving parts I know that one of these days it’s not going to end well.

I’m thinking maybe its Asshole driven, you know? Maybe there’s some kind of trip-switch in my head where as soon as the cavernous yoga pants come out and the trainers go on, he sprints from his stool in the corner of my head and flicks the switch to ‘bored’ since pain failed to dent my determination and it’s one of the few options open to him. Hell, he’s probably got KPIs to hit like the rest of us, right?

I know what the experts say, about exercise being like a drug and once it gets you it really gets you. I just don’t get it. And that’s a bit of a bummer. I want to get it. I’ve tried really hard and I swear I’m not going to give up but it would be lovely to stride towards it, even just one time, without wishing I could take a lump hammer to the dratted thing and burn the equivalent amount of calories smashing it to smithereens 🙂

 

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Powered By Mad

Biggest Triumphs, , ,

scooter

So I appear to have inadvertently discovered the most effective type of fuel yet to galvanise this fat old body into action…the trick seems to be getting really really mad. I mean, like really mad. Having a complete hissy fit and wanting to put someone’s lights out kind of mad.

It all started this morning when I woke up with a sore knee. There’s nothing particularly unusual about that, my knee has been dodgy ever since I dislocated it in the process of shuffling my 300lb body sideways to get into the window seat on a flight a couple of years ago. Yes, that did hurt, a lot.  And it put a crimp in the last few days of what had been a memorable trip around the States with my boy. New York is less fun than it might otherwise be when you’re struggling to walk with your knee in a brace.

Anyway I’m fairly used to the constant toothache in my knee, although to be fair it’s actually getting a little easier now I’m on my way down the scale. What really pushed my buttons this morning was the way that before I’d even had the chance to formulate the thought ouch, and stretch it a bit the Asshole voice was all over it.

Ooohh that doesn’t feel good. It’s all this exercise, obviously bad for you and you should stop, immediately, before your leg is damaged beyond repair. Have a day off today, don’t go near that cross trainer because it’s clearly doing more harm than good. Stay in your armchair,and show yourself a bit of TLC. Tell you what, why don’t you try and limp to the supermarket and get some cheese balls, it’ll be like old times…

At the same time he was chewing my ear I was reading an email from the company who I bought my new bag from just before Christmas, who were responding to my enquiry as to when I might expect to receive it. Given that it passed quality control over a week ago but hasn’t been despatched yet, their sentence inviting me to be patient got right up my nose. The straw that broke the camel’s back..? When I closed my laptop and reached over to the bedside table to pick up my glass of water and instead managed to knock it off and into my slippers. Looking back, it’s funny, but seriously, in that moment I completely lost the plot.

I half stomped and half hobbled across the bedroom and got on that hurt machine, chuntering under my breath the whole time. I didn’t even swing past the bathroom for a quick wee first, and excuse my indelicacy but it seems that a full bladder and a bad attitude is the way to go.

I was so busy telling the Asshole voice where to shove his cheese balls, and how despite his best efforts to sabotage my resolve I had no intention of spending the rest of my days traversing life from the comfort of a fat-friendly mobility scooter, I didn’t even notice the minutes mounting up. My eyes were out on stalks when I realised I’d done nine minutes, and I  immediately thought fuck it, if I can do nine I can do TEN, stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it, Asshole. 

So I did.  No quitters here, right?

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My Fifty Year Fitness Goal

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now, ,

set goal, make plan, work, stick to it, reach goal - a success concept presented with colorful sticky notes

So you know how every now and again you read something that really resonates with you, and at the same times inspires you to think that maybe, just maybe if you put the hours in you can pull something similar off yourself..? I just read Jan Bono’s latest guest post on the Cranky Fitness blog, and I’m here to tell you that as I sit here with my morning coffee and toast, having just read it for the second time, it’s really got me. Real tears and everything, both times…I mean come on, even E.T only got me once.

I posted a link to the story on my ‘interesting stuff’ page for anyone who’s curious but in a nutshell Jan dropped over 240lbs, and went on to make the leap from struggling to walk from her house to her car, to completing a 10k event. The post is about how she felt as she was doing it, and afterwards. I’ve had to have a word with myself this morning, I was chomping at the bit to pull on my walking boots and set off.

Given that I’m nearer the house/car end of the spectrum with a shedload of weight to lose, I need a plan of action to prevent the inevitable walk of shame back from the end of my road after the penny drops that I’m not quite ready yet to go the whole hog. Something like that definitely needs more than my usual ‘spectacles, testicles, wallet & watch’ approach to planning, as in it needs to start way before I’m getting ready to leave the house.(For the avoidance of doubt, my balls are purely metaphorical, just in case anyone wondered!)

So my thoughts turned to what it is that I’d like to do…what’s the thing I’m going to aim for, plan and train for..? Imagine that, me in training for something. It’s proving a challenge in itself just wrapping my head around that one. I need some time to think about it, because I want it to mean something, you know?  But I will come back to you on that, because along with my BHAG in terms of longer term weight control, and my short and medium term milestones I can see a hole opening up in my overall plan for a fitness goal, and this would fit the bill perfectly.

With immaculate timing, another of our posse (also called Jan funnily enough, do you think there’s a conspiracy amongst Jans to focus my mind..?!) suggested to me yesterday that I check out the Nerd Fitness blog post about taking the first small step in terms of getting fitter. Interesting food for thought – again I’ve shared it on my page. I’ve never ever tried tackling both diet and fitness at the same time. The asshole in my mind is currently having an utter meltdown that I might even be considering such a thing…he’s on the ropes where my eating plan is concerned given my level of focus and resolve, but he knows I’m on less sure footing where the whole fitness thing is concerned so his voice is loud and persistent. One at a time, get the weight down first so nothing hurts as much…

In the spirit of full disclosure, it’s what I want to hear you know? Sounds much easier and less painful so he’s kind of pushing on an open door. But setting a longer term fitness goal and building a plan might just give me the impetus to drown out his voice and get cracking. I’ve already started my extra walk a day with Charlie the dog, although to be honest the wheels came off a bit last week with not feeling too hot. It doesn’t feel like a habit yet either, but I’m sure I’ll get there.

How does the saying go..? You don’t have to be great before you can take the first step, but you have to take the first step before you can be great. I’m still trying to break free of these concrete boots 🙂

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Kick-Ass Technology

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now,

whip1

So…last day off work before I’m back for the long run up to Christmas, sadly I have no annual leave left now at all. I looked, twice, in that way you do when you’ve just eaten the last hob-nob and you have to re-check the packet to make sure you haven’t missed any crumbs. Bugger. I hate it when I’ve officially used up every last drop of time off for the year. Even though I really love my job to the point where time flies and I enjoy being there, my time isn’t my own when I’m on someone else’s clock you know?

Still, I shall make the most of my last day off by trying to impress my watch. Yes, you heard me right. I have a new voice to add to the cast of characters, another person to whom I’m now accountable. I mean strictly speaking it’s not actually a person, but it has a voice and the capability to nag me into doing things I have no desire to do, without any input from me. And it’s just as hard to ignore. I haven’t landed on a name yet – it’s like having a newborn, you kind of need to get to know them a little bit before you know the name you like really suits them – but it’s alive and well and sitting on my wrist and due to my jet-lag-inspired long lay-in this morning it’s already given me the hard word that today I’m being a lazy cow and need to get moving.

In addition to delivering a non-stop stream of email, texts, calls and other assorted crap to my fingertips, it also counts my steps, nudges me to make sure I move around on an hourly basis if it feels I’ve been sitting down for too long, gives me an exercise target and nags me on a regular basis if I don’t appear to be making much progress. FFS, it’s like having a personal trainer chewing my ear on the hour every hour. I can almost hear it clearing it’s throat in the background as I’m sitting typing this – last time it prompted me to get up and move around for at least a minute I went and made a cup of tea and I’m starting to wonder whether that was against the rules…I mean maybe I was supposed to do a minutes’ worth of power-yoga or something?

Trouble is, I’ve already set the bar quite high – it took up it’s position as nag-in-chief on my wrist whilst I was away. And whilst I was away there was lots to see and do. As I limped, footsore and knackered back to our room every night after long days spent exploring stuff which distracted me in the moment from just exactly how much my feet hurt, it gave me a big pat on the back and told me I’d achieved my target for the day…no shit, Sherlock. It’s a different story now…a half day’s worth of activity yesterday followed by a 10 hour flight, an early night and an extra long sleep have all contributed to a swift re-calibration of my overall output, and it’s sitting on my wrist with it’s micro-chip pursed in disapproval and a renewed determination to kick my lazy ass.

That, together with Charlie the dog’s death-stare because he wants his walk means that I have little option at this point but to get up and get moving. No rest for the wicked and all that. I’ve already put two loads of washing in and cleaned the kitchen, this is surely the time where I can sit and catch up on all the things I’ve sky-plussed whilst I’ve been away..? Charlie and the watch both have other ideas, so it appears that I’m out-voted…that’ll be no, then!

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