Category Archives: Fitness

Well that’s just not good enough, is it?

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I have six minutes to type this blog…

Remember the food fest from yesterday? I got on the scale today and saw I have managed to put ALL THE WEIGHT BACK ON.

I’m like Trump’s Money, I would be in exactly the same state if I had just left it alone. So I stomped off to work and planned to have a work-out this evening.

But, no work-out! The guy I normally check out on YouTube had deleted all his videos, and moved to a paying platform. Well that is just great!! I looked up the platform, mainly to give him a piece of my mind; really, with no warning, it was just too much.

So, there I discovered his longer piece. He has been making these videos for over five years, and devoted a huge amount of time to them, usually at the expense of his family. He has devoted himself to them over and over, all the while working in, wait for it,

Retail.

He has produced hundreds of videos, for no economic reward. He’s seen them downloaded, bootlegged, mirrored and sold on, all the while he’s been producing them. And not making any more money than someone selling cigarettes on the roadside. And his mental health has suffered too: YouTube commentators are infamous for their sense of entitlement, their nitpicking, and he’s become more and more focused on likes, views, etc. And all the while watching it be downloaded and spread making money for other people.

So he has surprised over two hundred subscribers and moved to a paying platform. And as someone who will argue over and over that labour has to be paid for, really I am in no position to argue. Kid’s got a point: pay for the video.

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Time for bed

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So the interesting point to note is that any day with real action required sees me completely drained by 6pm. I had two long meetings today, and I was honesty falling asleep when I was playing with Big guy when I got home.

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I also discovered that I will go ahead and make bad food choices when I’m that tired. Chinese again tonight, so I have to get back on the wagon tomorrow and make amends for it. I simply don’t have anything left to give when I get that tired. The better option is to just ensure I don’t get that tired, or that hungry.  Of course, if I knew that was the case, I’d be able to avoid it…

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I’m over tired and I have to do it all over again tomorrow. One thing I did manage to do this morning was to start plotting out the sequel, so I can be glad that happened.

Right, back to the grindstone. Good night sisters.

Last of the Summer Fruits

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Well it’s the weekend, another few days have flown by, and it is time once again, dear reader, to update you in the most delightful events I have enjoyed so far. You do know that my life is always in cursive, don’t you? Cursive, with a warm breeze coming through lace curtains, and a soundtrack by Charles Gounod. Summers in France, children’s laughter, soft grey wraps over my bronzed shoulders, mine is a blessed life. (Hairflick)

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Friday I was on the way to pick up Big Guy, and I noticed that the strawberry van was back. They appear each Summer and I have ignored them over and over. The one in question we passed each day, and I promised myself and Big Guy we would bring it home each day.

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And then last week, they were gone.

The spot they occupied was empty, with all the promise of summer’s end. And somehow, Friday, there they were! I stopped the car like a crazy lady and bought two punnets. They tasted amazing, mainly because Summer is leaving us. It was wonderful to savour them, knowing that they were gone forever, really. Big guy loved them too, not knowing how rare the summer fruits will be for a while. Poor mite.

And when we left to drive home, the sellers had already pulled up and were gone, leaving only an empty space.

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Day Ten done.

You do EVERYTHING wrong.

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I’ve gotten to that happy stage where all/nearly all the jobs are done and I can go to bed. I woke up tired, I got through the day tired, and I’m tired now.  And you know how I know I’m tired? My other half is laughing at the computer and he is too BLOODY LOUD!

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My lack of love of humanity is growing. I always wanted to find myself on a desert island with the absolute assurance of never meeting anyone.

Right now he is laughing, and coughing, because he had a cough, and I am going to kill him.

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THIS REFERENCE IS 26 YEARS OLD

I did manage to exercise, and to stick to my diet. I’ve found some earnest thing on youtube who insists on maxing the envelope, and so forth. My cup runneth over.

Right. The daily endurance that is my life is over for another day. Good night to you all.

Sparkling Wit, and Graceful Repartee.

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Repartee.  Repartae? Tae? Cup of tae? Is there any? No? Not to worry, all good then.

I am very tired. I had a busy, and stressful, day, and it has left me almost disassociating I’m so tired. I can’t even get the caption thing to work on this blog and I’ve no energy to get it right.

I’m just done, all. Everything is loud and noisy and I’m listening to old time jazz tunes so that it doesn’t clash. As far as I know I didn’t go over the diet, but wow at what a cost. I use food to make me happy, and I am not happy right now.  I’m going to drink this coffee, and go to bed, in hopes it will keep me upright for the next half an hour.  Night night.

 

Oh, p.s. I would like to thank my computer for spending 40 minutes upgrading this morning, thereby making my 5 am wake up utterly unnecessary.  Nicely done.

 

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The Katering Show. I very much recommend.

Back to Business.

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So yesterday I returned to work for the first time in two weeks. The prospect of missing Big Guy all over again was not one I was looking forward to; the next time we’ll have an uninterrupted week together is Christmas. And as I drove into work, there was no other way to describe my feeling as ‘absence’ – the absence of his voice, his face, his hugs. I really do need to win the lotto, dear reader, so as to be at home for him more. Any spare change? *Rattles can*

I managed, in the middle of my middle-class mum angst, to still stick to the diet. I had a lot to do, and it was clear by about 12 noon that I was only going to get so much done that day. But I broke the back of it and kept on moving. Big guy was shattered by the time I picked him up, and he’s fighting off a cold, so the rest of the evening was spent tending to him and getting him to rest.

Today, Tuesday, I got to do it all again. My mood is getting lower, meaning that the sugar is leaving my system.

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Tomorrow features a day of important meetings, and after that I’m determined to do some exercise. It depends on what time we get home, and what we have to do when we get there. Wish me luck.

Day Five done. 

Into Action

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So.

Day three.

One of the most difficult aspects of life is the conflict between reality and expectations.

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Speaking as someone who tries to avoid reality, who is surprised by it and who has no business in it, I remind myself that just because I expect things to go one way, does not necessitate that it actually will.

Meaning; I can plan this, but the actual experience is less than I expected.

I eat to reward, to placate and to provide succour, and the anticipation of that comfort will get me through the day. How else to keep the demons at bay and my rage on hold?

In brief; I kept to the near zero carb count, and am feeling less and less joyous about life, a sure sign that I’m on a diet. I carried out a thirty minute workout, and have a pleasant muscular ache on foot of it. The near constant rain today made everyone soporific, and the lack of high or low meant it appeared to be a Wes Anderson film.

Tomorrow I am back to work, with three separate and very competing agendas re-entering my life.  Wish me luck.

 

If I Can’t Eat, I Spend.

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Day One.

This is the beginning. As best as I can figure it will take me over one hundred days to lose this damn weight. One hundred and forty-four to be exact, and that’s just an optimistic hope on my part.

But today? Today is day one.

So breakfast was an omelette. Lunch was scrambled eggs. Afterwards was a different type of treat, where I had a coffee with a friend I haven’t seen since Christmas. There, I had a salad that tasted a lot better than it should: greens, walnuts, feta cheese and figs. We had a fantastic chat, and we made it even better by going to the bookshop afterwards. I had a great time.

Pile of books

Oh, yes….

Does the fact that I read so much make me a better person than you?

Yes, yes it does.

 

Anyway. Home, to a dinner of bacon and mozzarella cheese, followed by tea with a ranting blog. Time for bed, and the first day is done. Done!

See? Easy! *Twitch*

A New Day, A New Me…

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… must be the most tired sentiment ever.  However, I am old and experienced enough to know that sometimes, inventory must be taken, and when something must be changed you should change it.

So. There are 144 days until the New Year, and this is what is going to happen.*

  • No sugar
  • No carbs
  • Daily exercise; either five minutes or thirty or an hour, but no zero days.
  • Writing every day. This blog, finish that novella, short stories, whatever. Ideally start the sequel to the novel I just finished. But no zero days. And, no, TWITTER DOES NOT COUNT.
  • Keep the son’s learning going.
  • Stay very much away from social media. It’s as pervasive as sugar and just as toxic.
  • Save money like a mad thing. You need it to get away from rental fun and neighbours and terraced houses and all of it.

It is entirely possible I will be bringing you, my dear reader, on this delightful ride with me. I know that you must only wonder what delights we will see together. Rest assured, you will find me very, very, hangry.

Image result for GIF Missy piggy

 

*Yes it WILL don’t you JUDGE me it’s NOT a PHASE!!

Game of Tonnes

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Monday

I get up and do my lovely extended physio, which now takes 20 minutes. It is getting easier, and I have a voice in my head that says it is because there was never anything wrong with me in the first place. Traffic is ridiculous, pointless; by the time I get to work I’m so near tears at the effort it takes me a while to get started, and then before you know it it’s time to pick up Big Guy again. How the hell can I improve on this?

 

Tuesday

I get to work in the usual panic, and then have to go on a walkabout meeting with someone from Estates. I want to set up a room in our building where students who are still nursing are able to nurse their babies and store their milk in privacy. We find a lovely room, attached to student officers’ rooms, and it might just work. We examine two other prospects, but they are either in use or in filthy condition, they won’t work. Estates aim to confirm my chosen room is vacant for use, but it looks good. I spend the rest of the day in hopeful planning, then pick up big guy and then home.

 

Wednesday

A voicemail tells me that the chosen room isn’t looking good; they were incorrect in the room number, leading them to give me incorrect information. The guy in question in charge of the room is polite when I ring him, but wants to know who told me it was free? I seem to have stumbled into a political issue, and I finish the conversation with the sense of going back to the drawing board, damn it.

Phsyio is today as well, and I arrive at 12 noon ready for the punishment. There’s a moment when I am lying face down, feeling the same resistance in mah old glutes, when I ask the nice young man, “So, Karl, was it the glamour that led you to become a Physiotherapist?” I’m joking, but the pain is leading me to sweat and close my eyes. Wow, but this is hard. I get another extended session to do at home, and I can do cycling sessions in the gym now. I’m actually a bit giddy at the idea.

 

Thursday

Super-duper important meeting at 10.30 am. I go, so far the other side of nervous I’m not nervous. I’m so blatantly unqualified for this I can only get through on bravado.

Don’t look down ya silly!

How did the meeting go? It moved in the right direction. But no firm result. I need to write up things and move things, and be political and talk to folk, but I can’t because the door keeps opening and students and colleagues have the nerve to expect things, and what do you know it is home time already. I leave campus with the sense of just shutting the door on a hurricane.

Come on ta fuck.

We got back home and had dinner with Big Guys Nana. She wants to go on a diet, and I want to go on a diet. My success at losing nearly 60lbs has led me to be complacent about my eating habits, and with no exercise means I’m gaining fast. I promised to do up a diet plan and get back to people. Then the other half and I headed off to a Parent Teachers Meeting. It was just a briefing on the children’s schedule, no individual chats at all. It did remind me how rarely I talk to the other half by ourselves with room to breathe, to be honest.  We go home afterwards just exhausted.

 

Friday

I GOT TO THE GYM!!!

I got there at lunchtime. I did twenty minutes on the bikes, and everyone was nervous and pouting and afraid to look human, whereas Mrs Doyle here was just having a blast. I will tell you though, that I was silly enough to not wash my make up off first, and that was a bad idea; I have an outbreak of spots and no one to blame but myself. But hurrah, exercise! And it didn’t hurt and everything was fine!

Work, emails, the usual. I was so happy!

 

Saturday

Took Big Guy to the library. He seemed unaware of just how bloody magical such a place is. Nevertheless, we got out Where the Wild Things are and that seemed to break through his disinterest.

I had a slice of bread mid-morning, to the derision of the other half. “Thought you were going on a diet?” Oh, it is on, best beloved. Watch me go.

We get through the day, then bath and bed, and as I am reading a story for Big Guy I switch off. I don’t mean I get fatigued, or sleepy. I mean the tank is empty in a way I can’t explain, and I need to lie down. I go down stairs and finish the coffee waiting for me, then back upstairs. I just put on my pjs and lie down, thinking that the coffee will surely keep me aw-

 

Sunday

Morning. It’s 6am, my brain convinced this is the time to wake up. I lie there, shockingly tired. I’m reminded of the time I gave blood but didn’t rest up afterwards like they all insist you should to, and as a result was dizzy and tired to the point of tears. I get up when Big Guy comes in at 7am, but I am short tempered to the point of abusive all day. There’s no other word for it. I just have nothing left in me. When the next door neighbour’s kid calls round I’m so relieved, the effort to entertain him is almost too much today. I put him to bed after dinner, and then write up this blog. I still have to look at my emails, plan the week and get myself cleaned up for tomorrow. I will use next week to do up the diet plan as well, but I will need to go easy on the exercise if I do. It’s almost zero carb and exercising on that is nearly impossible at the start.

Right. I’ve lots to do and miles to go before sleep. Away with ya now.