"How hard can it be?" - The 5K of Grief and Loss.

Today I ran 5km on the Running machine. This is how it went.

Expectations
- Everyone is Running 5K. Overweight people with no experience Run 5K for Breast Cancer. Let's see how I do.
- People I know are Running 5K, and posting how far and fast they run. My innate competetive side was overthrown by my innate curious side as I have no point of comparison.
- There are no gym classes today. Let's give Running 5K a shot.
- Running 5K in under 40 minutes. That's doable.
- I haven't run or been on a running machine in well over 6 months.
- However this will feel it would be so much harder to run on the road where the floor doesn't move underneath you.

Conclusions
 - Running 5K is really long
 - Running 5K hurt my hips and shins.
 - Running 5K is really hard.
 - My rainbow analogy fits this situation too.
 - Running for more than 20 minutes is really boring.
 - Running the first 2K hurt my shoulder
 - Running 5K is really long
 - Running for more than 20 minutes is easier than running for less than 20 minutes
 - I need new trainers.


The First Kilometre - Denial and Isolation
Seemed to last FOREVER. I was running at full whack for around 10 minutes (granted the first two were warm up/getting into my stride) and I only manged 0.6K before I felt like I had to stop. I had a stitch, my shoulder was killing me and my breathing and heart rate were very high.
After 10 minutes of running I switched to a fast walk. The end seemed so far away and in my head I had convinced myself it would take me 20 minutes. Which is how long it takes me on the bike. It only took me to about 0.85K to remember it takes longer to cycle that run. That was a comfort for all of 20 seconds when I realise how far I still had to run.

The Second Kilometer - Anger
This K went a lot quicker, but looking at the little semi-circle diagram that still seemed to be telling me that I had so far to go and it looked like most of it was uphill. It didn't seem to care that I'd been running FOREVER. However the anger spurred me on and during "Feeder - Just a day" I ran 0.6K at around 9.5KPH. Shortly after this I had to stop and that was the one moment the machine thought I'd given up. I hadn't.

The Third Kilometer - Bargaining
I was over the middle-hump, I was over halfway but I still couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I reckoned if I walked a high gradient for 0.5K and ran for another 0.5K I would just about make it to 4K and that is acceptable and a good effort and I should be proud of that and next time I will do better.

The Fourth Kilometer - Depression
I got there. Foo Fighters got me there, but during the time getting there I knew I would never be happy if I stopped at 4K. I was on the downhill slope on the little diagram but the end was still far and I wouldn't forgive myself for not finishing. Nothing hurt any more but I had to get there. I was on 30 minutes of running and I also knew I wouldn't make 40 minutes. 45 would be okay but still fairly shamefull for someone who reckons they're not that unfit.

The Fifth Kilometer - Acceptence
I spend the first half of the kilometer bowling it up hill to Dizzee Rascal "Dirtee Money" looking at the time going away, feeling the ache in my legs and thinking even if I get to 4.5K and start running I will never make it to 5K in the next 6 and a half minutes. It just won't happen. But I would get to the end and the blog would be good and I can make a feature of it and show off how much I've improved. I got to 4.5K and put on something screechy and loud by Fall Out Boy and ran at 9.5KPH barely breathing, just determined to get there. It wasn't until 38 minutes and 4.82K that I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, I was near the end of the rainbow and I could do it in the next two minutes. I whacked it up to 10KPH and ran like my life depended on it.

End result: 388 calories, Average KPH of 7.7, 5K smashed in 39 minutes and 13 seconds!

GET IN.

Body Batter

Time for a new class - it's been a while (for a new class and a gym visit!) So I thought I would throw myself in at the deep end and do a double for the first time. Body Attack followed by Body Condition with Lorraine.

Up and pumped I went to Chelle's Body Attack class. Not sure if I've told you about Chelle, she does Body Combat as well, she's small, blonde, built like a shit brickhouse and absolutely mental. Definitely good qualities for a gym instructor.

So we start off with a fairly lively warm up, I'm feeling revitalised and energetic. Then we do the first mix and suddenly I'm dripping in sweat, seeing my life flash before my eyes and wondering how I am going to survive the next 50 minutes.

The workout itself is on an intensity level with Body Combat, but without the punching and kicking, so you feel slightly more graceful and less angry. Lots of shuffling, hopping, high knees and some amazing new moves including "Superman" and "Side Skips" which I'm fair sure is a move we used in Summer Holiday with SODS.

I never thought I would say this but THANKFULLY about halfway through she did an arms/press up section because it saved my legs for all of five minutes. I did however promptly then get cramp in my right inside thigh so had to spend a few minutes stretching it, discovering carrying on was the only way to stop it from hurting.

Needless to save, walking away dripping in sweat, I was not ready to take on body conditioning. Luckily Lorraine also felt the same when we saw the inclusion of Steps and copious amounts of weights in the class ahead, so we opted for a 35 minute stint on the bikes and rowing machines, while of course having a bit of a gossip.

In conclusion, I now walk like John Wayne but it was a great class, will do it again!

10/10

Jamaican Me Crazy!

To set the mood.

Usually my Thursday morning 7am Body Conditioning class is just perfect. Leesa uses these CDs so everything is structured and you know you’ll have at least the odd break. The page says three sweat drops but I would say it rarely goes above 2 and you have a nice ab crunching session at the end where you can cool down and regain a regular body temperature at the end of the session.

But not this week. The CDs always make me laugh because I don’t really understand what the bad is saying. This week it sounded like “The Mega Fix Chicken Leg Work Out”. So that’s what I’m going with.

I will point out at this point that each section of exercise was accompanied by a repetitive Reggae riff. Which whilst had a nice rhythm to work to, it also made me feel like I should be I should be re-enacting this scene from Never Been Kissed...

Which I could only find in French. Apologies.

Here is the sequence of events (Bear in mind I don’t know if these are the real exercise names):

Round one

Burpies – Press Up Variation - Two step dash - Borrower Squats

a.       20 seconds work. 15 seconds rest.

b.      25 seconds work. 10 seconds rest. (More work less rest are you kidding me? It’s 7AM!)

c.       20 seconds work. No rest.

Round two

Squat Thrusts – Hot Hands – Sprint in place – Take Down (this is some sort of tribal looking lunge)

a.       20 seconds work. 15 seconds rest.

b.      25 seconds work. 10 seconds rest. (More work less rest are you kidding me? It’s 7AM!)

c.       20 seconds work. No rest.

Round three

Skaters – Crab walk (I am not coordinated enough nor do I have the upper body strength for this... I did a plank) – Two side step touch – Squat Jumps

a.       20 seconds work. 15 seconds rest.

b.      25 seconds work. 10 seconds rest. (More work less rest are you kidding me? It’s 7AM!)

c.       20 seconds work. No rest.

Round 4 YES YOU ARE READING THIS CORRECTLY THERE WAS A FOURTH ROUND AND I SUSPECT THERE MAY HAVE BEEN MORE BUT THIS TOOK US TO 30 MINUTES WHERE SHE TURNS OFF THE CD.

All 12 exercises. 20 seconds work. 5 seconds rest. Which is the equivalent of no rest because it gives you enough time to take a breath, remember what the next episode is and hold down vomit. Just...

The whole experience was improved greatly by the new man who has braved the morning exercise team and made everything look as theatrical as possible. A bit like this:

Good work out guys. Good work out.

I can almost hear the Mahjong tiles...

Sorry not all my blog posts will contain Friends quotes.

Today I went to the actual gym for the first time since they replaces all the machines. I've been to classes and for swims (is that the plural?) but not used the actual equipment seeing as at 7am I need the fear of drowning or a muscly instructor to motivate me to do anything.

This afternoon I started on the new swanky bikes with their swanky screens. I was annoyed I'd forgotten my headphones so I would have to list to the whirrs and panting around me and hope it didn't distract me too much. After about 3 minutes my mind was wandering and the people in the swimming pool were offering no form of entertainment whatsoever, then I discovered the "Games" section on the screen.

Now I always claim I am completely uncompetitive. It's true. I get riled up sometimes when playing monopoly and when I'm trying to get children to be competitive, but quite honestly when it comes to sports or competition I just don't give a monkies... (monkey's?). That said, I live in a permanent state of competition with myself. 

I will spend hours playing Windows Pinball or fighting myself at table tennis on the Wii. But in company I just find it impossible to put any effort in. So the opportunity to battle myself whilst cycling was too hard to pass up.

I've never been able to get the hang of Sudoku and I didn't enjoy matching pairs (by didn't enjoy I mean "Was shit at") so I thought I'd give Mahjong a go (on easy obviously as I'm not an 89 year old and I can't remember how to play it on the computer). First go, smashed the board in 3 minutes 45. Had another go and had mild panic halfway because the screen tells you when you exercise time is nearly up (I'd allowed myself 15 minutes) so upped my minutage, and before you knew it I'd completed a medium level of Mahjong, and I'd been going full pelt for 30 minutes, I couldn't feel my legs and I was sweating out of every crevice.

I practically fell off the bike and hobbled to the arm bike where I lip read Countdown (I'm worse at Countdown that I am at Mahjong) then headed back to the changing rooms feeling wobbly and satisfied. Well done, Virgin Gym. Ten out of Ten for distractions.

We're just friends!.... Yeah... Naked Friends

All the talk of fad diets recently gave me a yearning to visit the gym again. I haven’t been enough in the last month due to knackeredness/business/laziness/illness so I set my alarm and opted it for an early morning swim.

It was actually lovely. I felt relaxed, I only swam into the side once and I felt refreshed as I got out the pool and headed confidently the area near the shower where I’d left my towel and shampoo (and pants, obviously).

I washed my hair, suffered no disasters, I even used the magic swimming costume drying box. and positively bounced back to the changing rooms. As I was laying out my belongings a woman appeared opposite me and promptly dropped her towel and then found her underwear. Don’t get me wrong, this happens a lot and if there was ever an appropriate place to see tits before 8am, the female changing rooms at Virgin gym is the place to be.

I promptly turned around, turned my towel into a tent and put my bra on despite the fact I was still dripping wet. I turned back and formerly naked lady smiled at me and said: “Oh there’s nothing better is there? I’m so ready for the day now!”

In a previous blog I have outlined that you should only ever speak to someone at the gym at times of disaster or pain. I should have also specified that under no circumstances should these conversations occur in the changing rooms. Nudity and conversation are not two concepts that go hand in hand, especially not when you are strangers.

All the time I was talking to her I couldn’t maintain eye contact because in my head I was just thinking I’VE SEEN YOUR VAGINA. I have friends I’ve known for more than half my life and I haven’t even seen their boobs let alone their lady garden.

I quickly put my skirt and top on (I’m still wet, I’m going to be damp all day...) whilst we engaged in polite conversations about her client who is eating nothing but cabbage at the moment and that she’s off to the cinema tonight to see Man of Steel.

I moved over to the mirror so I could do my hair and makeup and formerly naked lady (who, I will add, did not even seem the slightest bit damp... Did she even have a gym session?!). She packed up her bag and headed out, tapping me on the shoulder, we wished each other a good day, then she said three words that in a normal context would not have phased me in the slightest...

“See you tomorrow”

So I guess I’m going to the gym tomorrow...

Alternative post titles:

*thumbs up* Naked Gym friend

"I have a huge problem with nudity"

Nudicity

Spa Daze

The event may have been about three months ago but I finally feel ready to share mine and Lorraine's Spa Day experience in Laayyykeesoyyddeee.

The original day for our Spa day was in January. But of course it snowed so we couldn’t go. So we rearranged it for the end of February. And it snowed. But it wasn’t too detrimental, just a mildly amusing anecdote.

So we packed up our little bags with all the things they tell you to take, slippers, flip flops, dressing gowns, towels etc.  And heading on our relaxing Spaventure.

Arriving was fairly straight forward, we arrived and signed in and were shown to the changing rooms. Mistake number one was not paying even the remotest bit of attention to the journey to the changing room. Mistake number two was not noticing where the door was. Mistake number three was not asking what we should wear in the Spa.

Spa Etiquette Query 1: Does one ask when one is not sure what to wear in the spa?

After opting for leggings, a vest and dressing gown/slippers, we headed back to the spa. We took at least three circuits of the changing rooms before realising there was only one way out, even though we didn’t recognise the route and there were DEFINITELY NOT badminton courts on the way out (there were: hence mistake number one).

I can’t remember who Lauren’s lady was, but mine was Frankie and she was very sweet and would have slotted perfectly into the TOWIE cast, or an outtake of Snog, Marry, Avoid. Either way we sat on strangely comfortable mosaic chairs and waited to be summoned.

Spa Etiquette Query 2: Is laughter permitted?

Then the separation occurred. I don’t know whether it would have been more or less awkward if we had been in the same room, but at least we could have consulted each other on the confusing aspects of preparing for a treatment:

Spa Etiquette Query 3: How long will you actually leave the room for? (this is important as I derobed then realised I still had my glasses on – never run so fast in my life)

Spa Etiquette Query 4: Which way do I lie down? (This was a moment of blondeness, I should have realised that “Face up” was necessary for a facial but it’s hard to think straight when your boobs are out)

Spa Etiquette Query 5: what way round does the towel go?

So begins the treatments. A lovely facial (she put so many things on my face I’m surprised I’m not just a walking cream now), a nice head massage (oil was an error. Such. Greasy. Hair.) Followed by a chocolate massage.

One thing I did not mention  about Frankie was that... she was... a little... familiar with Gregg’s... During my whole facial she was banging on about how good the chocolate smelled and I was mostly thinking “Oh how lovely, I can’t wait” And yes, it did smell fantastic.

And then the absolute unimaginable happened.

Halfway through the massage – I was covered in chocolate, feeling relaxed and was half naked. Frankie said the phrase

“OOhh I could just lick your back”

I *Wish* this was a lie. An exaggeration. Something I said in my own head, but it was not. With no Lorraine to laugh with me I was stunned into silence and a quiet squeal of “I’d rather you didn’t” and then attempted to relax for the rest of the massage.

I decided to let it slide because Frankie was very sweet, and not a terrifying man or someone I would have ever pegged as a sex pest, but I was quite glad when the whole experience (or “Ordeal” as I think it now classifies) was over.

Spa Etiquette Query 6: How long is too long and therefore weird to get re-robe after a treatment? Will they think you’re doing something bizarre if you take too long, or think you’re unclean if you’re too quick? How can you tell how long you’ve been when there are no clocks and you head is fuzzy from the smell of chocolate and low lighting?

The rest of the day was met with laughter and joy. We obeyed the rules and didn’t go in the Jacuzzi for over 30 minutes after the treatment (perfect time for a cider and fried breakfast), however we sweated (swat?) the 20 litres of product the second we walked into the pool area and had to have a break to wash the sting out of our eyes.

Would I do it again? Of course, but only if I could rectify the mistakes, have solid answers to my 6 etiquette queries from an experienced Spa- Goer and not have a the chubby girl/food treatment combination.

Gymtastrophe

So feeling pretty pleased with myself for not only dragging my tired ass to the gym at 7am, but for really 'going for it' seeing as I accidentally ending up with Mexican plans for lunch and Indian plans for dinner (not greed: the Mexican is free and the Indian is for charity, aren't I selfless?)

Every time I go to the gym before work I inevitably have to shower. I do not believe in public nudity, no matter how smooth and supple my skin is compared to the sixty year old bazongas I see in a morningly basis. I have my system and it works.

It is a risky system, however. It involves taking a towel and new pants to the shower with me. Which would be fine if the shower cubicle wasn't small and the forcet wasn't controlled by a sensitive, large button. Each time I reach precariously for my towel and pants (at this point I ask WHY, GOD, WHY DO YOU NOT ALLIGN YOUR HOOKS WITH THE OPENING OF THE DOOR, VIRGIN?? Why must I reach across to the hinge to pick up my dignity sized towel? Design flaw central) I make sure I am not so close to the door that my naked flesh touches it, but far enough away so I do not accidentally hit the water button in an unfortunate vigorous drying incident.

Most days I am successful. Don't get me wrong, I've performed this drill many times in my head. If the water does come upon me I will shoot my right arm in the air, saving my dry items, and use my left to hit the water button and resume as normal.

Today all did not go to plan. I hit the button and then everything went into slow motion. I heard the guzzle of the water about to exude from the pipe above my head and quickly whipped my towel high into the air, skillfully reaching to press the water button again. However as I looked towards the button I saw a white flutter out of corner of my eye, and had to watch, helpless, as my clean pants floated in the soapy puddle at my feet.

There was nothing I could do.

Cue me sliding out of the cubicle, in just a towel, spending five minutes under a hairdryer and the glare of 5 naked old ladies whose eyes seemed to say 'Why did you take your pants into the shower?'

Gymtastrophic.