Activity Tracker (or: retail therapy)

This is an appeal to the Sporty/ Gadgety Hivemind. Hello! :D

I am going to be in the market - in the New Year - for a new activity tracker (my current cheap one - Sony SmartBand was great for a few months, but has stopped recognising cycling (which is my main form of exercise!) and tracking my position over the course of a day (or ever), and doesn't measure my heart rate...).

There are some very fancy (read: expensive) activity and exercise trackers out there, and I'm doing my research, but I'm seeking out personal recommendations to trawl the sales with in January.  (Yes, yes, I know - a gadget doesn't substitute for just getting out and doing exercise, but I've found that a simple tracker with plenty of opportunity for graphs and comparisons has made a big difference to my motivation and therefore me actually doing anything.)

My requirements (not all of which are easily gleaned from t'interweb):

1. Not ridiculously expensive (my last one was <£20, end of line, to see if I wanted that kind of tech; £50-60 for a good one feels sensible, but less than that will be handy).

2. Has a heart rate monitor that doesn't require a chest strap.

3. Will track my movement (I'm a sucker for a good map).

4. Will integrate with my Android smartphone (send movement data to it, receive vibrating heads-up of phone notifications, can be used to e.g. snooze alarms).

5. Is a passive, through-the-day activity monitor, not just a "turn this on to say you're working out" type of thing.

6. Recognises the difference between different types of activity/ allows me to edit afterwards.

7. Fits my ludicrously slender wrist.

Preferable but not wholly essential:

1. Charges up from a normal micro USB cable.

2. Activity app integrates with other things like MapMyFitness/ Nudge/ whatever.

3. Fits under fitted cuffs without too much difficulty.

4. Shows me the time.


So there you are. Go recommendations... :)

Phase 1.2

In classic fashion, after crafting myself a clever and sensible bicycle training regime, I got busy, and then I got ill.

So, until yesterday, I hadn't done any further longer-distance rides.  After - yet again! - more procrastinating, I set off on another training ride along the Busway:



Several significant differences in preparation this time:

1. Lighter, smaller shoes.

2. Checked my tires.

3. Wore fewer layers.


What Went Well?

+ didn't overheat
+ really enjoyed it
+ didn't injure myself
+ went at a surprisingly fast clip
+ went further than anticipated (see above)
+ remembered to stretch at all
+ remembered to eat a protein bar and drink a ton of water when I got in
+ took a picture to mark the turning-point

What Could Have Gone Better?

- the soles on The Boots are ludicrously thick, and I nearly crippled myself climbing onto the now-far-too-high seat with my smaller shoes
- I was clearly dehydrated before I went out
- I hadn't eaten enough before I went out (seriously: very little all day)
- procrasturbating
- went further than anticipated
- didn't stretch as soon as I got in (again)


What will I do (differently) next time?

> adjust the seat before getting on the bike!
> drink a little more throughout the day (not directly beforehand!)
> get a mount for the phone on the handlebars so I can see how far I've gone rather than rely on a random notion of average speed to tell me when to turn around
> eat more sugary snackage beforehand and take something small with me for the turnaround break


Another thing not to do would be to look at other people's rides on Strava while I'm still feeling chuffed about my distance of 7.7 miles or whatever because one of my friends does 23 mile partially-off-road trips kind of as a matter of course.  If I do do that, I need to remind myself more swiftly that this is a guy who used to go mountain-biking on a Sunday, every Sunday, as a student, even when hungover to all hell. He's had over half his life to get really, REALLY good at this. Nice one, dude.

Remember: Do your own time...

Phase 1 Begins

After my bike challenge proposal, I decided on a vague training regimen of increasingly long trips, building up a mile or so a week, until I was near enough to my goal of the full distance between my house and Ely Cathedral.  I would do this on Sundays, and maybe Wednesdays, and I would neither wuss out nor break myself.

I spoke to colleagues who've trained for and completed cycling challenges such as London to Cambridge, or 100 mile round trips.  One of them came up with the excellent suggestion of using the busway's cycle path (since I live so close to one of them) for training, and another suggested a stepping programme of: increase, increase, step back, increase, increase, step back, etc. so that my baseline is always moving inexorably upwards. She also said that I should work out whether I'm stepping up time or distance. Both of them told me to listen to my body.

I discussed with R on Saturday how much I would do for the first step. I said: my longest usual non-stop journey is 20-25 minutes (my house to Cambridge Junction), so my first one should be slightly longer than that - 15 minutes one way and 15 minutes back. I discussed the ramifications of different options to an intricate level detail, and was reminded explicitly that I shouldn't "munt [my]self" on the first step - stick to 30 minutes. Oookaaaay...

Sunday came, and I watched myself procrastinate in the worst ways until I realised that I was basically waiting for it to be too late/ too rainy to go out. It hadn't rained, and I was disappointed.

Ah.

So I got off my arse, put what turned out to be too many layers on, set a count-down timer for 17 minutes, and got on my bike.  Here is the route I took:

It started off extremely boring, once I'd got onto the busway cycle path. Soooo dull.  I was pleased I'd opted for music, though I was sorely wishing for company. Quite how that would work, I've little idea yet - hands-free walkie talkies...?!

Anyway, after a while we left the science park behind and the landscape started getting interesting. More fields, more trees, am unexpected body of water, less noise. The little wiggle towards the left-hand side is where the cycle path abruptly jumps over three roads, including the busway, and I confidently crossed only two of them and ended up heading for a disused siding (the busway used to be a railway).

What went well?

+ I managed the distance
+ I didn't injure myself
+ I maintained a decent speed (av. 9.6, max. 13.6)
+ I felt fine (no significant aches & pains) during and after
+ I remembered not to take my usual heavy load of more urban gear with me

What could have gone better?

- I didn't stretch afterwards (probably the main reason I'm feeling it a bit more now)
- I didn't check bike's health (turns out you should inflate the tyres when heading off on a journey)
- As C predicted, watching me leave with all my layers, I massive overheated, especially on the way back.
- The procrastination!

What will I do (differently) next time?

> Start the journey colder (fewer layers, with options in saddlebags)
> Wear smaller shoes (my Big Black Boots weigh about 0.5kg)
> Check the tyres (and other things) first!
> Set a time for setting off and stick to it.

I'm definitely going to stick with the busway route for the next few iterations as a way of building up stamina and hours spent in the saddle while I level up.  As training ground it is excellently safe, and it forces me to keep going for longer, as there are only a few traffic lights, unlike any in-Cambridge cycling I do, which is packed with traffic lights and roundabouts, etc.  In fact, I'm almost tempted to switch the challenge to be "from home to St. Ives and back" because the busway to St. Ives is about 12.3 miles. There would be less dicking about with trains to get to the main leg of the trip, and it would be - for the most part - very protected from car traffic.

However, it would be extraordinarily dull.  I've had a look at the (mostly) off-traffic route from Ely, and it's via Wicken Fen and Anglesey Abbey - interesting local places I still haven't been to yet. I could make a proper (mini-)adventure out of this! :)

There's also an amount more hill (for this part of the world) going on. I haven't decided yet whether that's a good or bad thing.  I'm not convinced I want to end the journey uphill...

As the training progresses I'll get a better idea of how well my body is coping.  As each segment necessarily gets longer, it'll also be a test of my commitment to the goal - I'm not someone who's currently coming down with loads of spare time as it is...

More updates to come over the next few weeks...

A proposal

So, about 21 months ago, I started this blog and the drive for better fitness that defined it.  I had a single, simple goal to aim for, which encompassed a whole bunch of smaller, possibly more complex goals along the way:

Walk six miles in one go for Sport Relief 2014, the goals along the way being: increase cardiovascular fitness, increase striated muscle strength, improve stamina, get out of the habit of getting taxis and buses when I could be walking or cycling instead, improve joint stability.

The big one I did, and managed to raise a shit-ton of money (over £1000) in the process. I also lost weight, gained what feels like better lung capacity, and a better attitude to being mobile.

My joint stability, upper-body strength, and general fitness are probably more questionable at this stage, but at the time, and for a good while afterwards, there were some definite improvements to be felt and seen.

So I'm fitter than I was this time two years ago, and I'm keen to get back into that sense of achievement and incidental physical health improvement.  So what's the word?  Six miles again doesn't seem particularly worthwhile, and I'm enjoying the bike, so I'm thinking: a cycling challenge this year.  And since I seem to cycle approximately three times faster than I walk, the challenge needs to be more than 18 miles.  And Ely is 20-odd miles away from Cambridge, so...

Again: it's nothing set against those people who cycle all the way from London to Cambridge (50-odd miles), but most of them, I'm guessing, don't have the kind of physical health problems I have.  So I'm going to do my challenge, building up bike hours and distances in the intervening 22 weeks, and see how I go.

Might be worthwhile learning some cycle maintenance skills while I'm at it...

Watch this space (and Strava, and anywhere else I can get stuck into) for progress reports. :)

Steps Forward and Back

So, I'm back on the bike again. What do you mean, you didn't know I was off it...?!

{Checks back catalogue; curses}

Okay, so, it looks like a) I've been somewhat quiet on this front, and b) history repeated itself a bit.  Here's what happened over the intervening months since my last post:

1. Cycling every day (pretty much; certainly work days when I didn't have gig gear to carry, and Wednesdays when I had real life people meetings in places).

2. Physio every day (EVERY day; like a BOSS).

3. Mat exercises twice a week (come on!).

4. Eating a balanced diet.

And then August happened.  And August has Edinburgh Fringe in it. So no cycling from 19th August onwards, but lots of walking, and a handy new wearable gadget that maps how much and where I walked (because my passive movement tracking app stopped working).

So I scaled Arthur's Seat (yay!) and even coached someone else up it (come on!). Didn't even injure myself, unless you count sunburn.  I even kept up my physio and the strength-building mat exercises (despite some logistical difficulties - you try doing crunches on a mat on a polished wooden floor... without sliding across it and into a table).

And then I fell over on my face on a simple walk back down an urban hill, a couple of days later, and lots of health things cascaded, including my one filling jarring free and me getting a lot of pain and then a rubbish temporary filling which didn't let me chew so my nutrition was difficult to maintain and yeah - living off liquid food makes you lose more weight than you're comfortable with, if you're me.

Arse.

And then the trip back from Edinburgh with Too Much Luggage and bad lifting form and behold - buggered wrist.

So I was sensible - cycling hurt my wrist, so I paused on cycling and did some stretching and strengthening exercises for the wrist, and stayed off the press-ups, etc.  Then I got back on the bike. Yay! Then I got back into the mat exercises. Now, bear in mind that I hadn't done any since August, because I didn't - I just charged on ahead regardless like someone who was intent on injuring myself. Which I did.

This was 30th September. 1st October I got on the bike, unaware of how much I'd buggered myself. By the time I was heading home, it was clear that what I needed to do was immobilise that joint as much as possible.

It's nice to find that I've learned something.  I didn't prevent the injury this time, but I prevented it getting worse.  I immobilised as much as possible, asking for help, reducing movement, adjusting everything I could to ensure that as little strain was put upon the joint as possible. (Except on Thursday 8th when I joined in a yoga conversation in work and decided to demonstrate that I shouldn't do a certain move by doing it. 24 hours of migraine-like pain later and I'd learned another lesson about hypermobile injuries.)

So apart from yoga foolishness, I am pretty much recovered (read: it still hurts a bit but I can use it and I was more stressed by not being active) and back on the bike,  I cycled to Milton Country Park on Sunday with a friend to do some walking and wittering, then to and from work yesterday and today.

It was somewhat sobering to look back at the previous two blog entries and think: oh, so exactly like 3-4 months ago, huh? I left behind some good advice for myself, though, so that's a blessing.

In preparation for 20th March - Sport Relief again, baby - I'm going to be setting up a plan for increasing activity, strength, endurance, and general fitness. I'll keep you all posted as to what's next...

So, what's the current state of play (physical health-wise), all told? I am still a little hurty in the shoulder-neck joint and in my right wrist, and I'm finding it hard to put the weight back on. (And yes, I've tried eating all the biscuits - all that happened was I felt like crap. Presumably I need to eat a bunch of steaks and cheese.  Who knows?  All I know is that there are very, very few people out there who want to talk about the problems of losing too much weight and discussing how to put it back on.) So there it is.

Nyom

I have not been eating well.

Correction: this week I have made a belated stab at eating well.  It’s proving... taxing...

I have started monitoring exercise, fluid intake, sleep, and fruit/ veg intake again.  Among other things, having an objective measurement is super-useful.

And it turns out that I’m about hitting exercise and sleep targets, scraping by on fluids, and frankly failing at fruit and veg.  And, frankly, even those dismal fluid and fruit/ veg intake figures are only because I’m trying harder so that I can have something to put in the log.  Less Heisenberg, more Hawthorne.

Balls.  I remember that, last time, I was doing really well - easily getting 7/8 fruit and veg a day, and usually drinking about 2½ litres of water (apart from Saturdays - I rarely do well on Saturdays as they tend to be my sofa day - lots of sleep, not so much on the food, drink, or social activity).

Over the last couple of months I appear to have systematically broken all my good habits, possibly in a fit of pique over my neck being sore and it being more difficult for me to exercise.  (At some point soon I need to address this thanatopic, adolescent tendency; it’s really starting to get in my way.)  I cut down on exercise, social time, water intake, fresh/ any fruit and veg, and I did it with a grim sense of achievement. It was weird. I only see how weird it was now, writing about it and looking back.

I’ve started baking again (creative endeavour, sense of achievement, nom), which means more biscuits. I have to take them out of the house and ply them at colleagues, friends, randoms on the street (this is not actually an exaggeration - I gave home-made flapjack to a homeless guy because I didn’t have any cash on me, and I don’t smoke).

I feel like I’m coming at this health thing again from not even a standing so much as a lying-down start.  This is going to be tougher than I’d anticipated...

Any hints and tips would be gratefully received on how to make this stick.  In the meantime, I’m going to keep on with the spreadsheet and keep reminding myself how much better I feel well-hydrated and with a less-challenged digestive tract.

(I wish I understood the weight thing - this entire time I’ve continue to remain in the lower half of the ideal BMI range, and - according to the possibly incredibly faulty fat analysis machine - I have a really (like scarily) low fat composition...)

Changing Relationships

So, I’ve blogged before about pain. About what “stop comes before ow” really means and how you can be guided by, but also ignore pain if needs be.

As I get more into the old exercise regime, the more pain I’m experiencing.  Some of it is “good” pain - e.g. the stiffening and burning of artfully-shredded muscle fibres that are on their first steps to growing back thicker.  Some of it is “bad” pain - e.g. the twanging of a shoulder joint that’s experienced injury due to superfluous effort in a less-advisable position.

Now, I’m prone - like probably every enthusiastic bendy - to overdoing things, breaking myself, and having to take a break from exercise as a result.  This has been well-documented in me, even as recently as last year’s big fitness push, and I find myself there again, having gone too hard on the old press-ups last week and now having unilateral neck pain, and pins-and-needles in my left arm due to a twanged shoulder. (Yes, it’s The Particularly Borked Shoulder.)

But something occurred to me last week, as I was going up the stairs and thinking: “yep, this is an injury, not just a post-exercise burn” - it’s not a disaster.

Let’s say that again: It’s Not A Disaster.

In the past, the pattern has been: start exercise regime, forget sensible approach after a couple of goes (at most) and overdo things so that an established weak point is compromised, curse a lot, rest for ages, start again only after I’m really fed-up of being unfit.

And I’ve managed to manage that somewhat - I’ve been building more slowly (last week notwithstanding), being more alert to potential injury, stopping sooner, and giving myself space to recover before getting back into things without leaving it so long that I’m actually more prone to injury if I try coming back in at the same level.

But in the past it’s been all: oh! ow! and then beating myself up for a muppet. Catastrophising the pain and popping myself in the victim box all over again. The pain is punishment! The pain is validation! The pain is a full-stop!

Waaaiit... rewind - the pain is validation?  Hmm, sounds like some kind of brain weasel talk to me. And it’s a problem that, the more I think about it, the further it goes back for me.

There’s an awkward balance to be struck when your body is limited in a particular way.  You have to own it in order to manage it.  But sometimes that very self-definition can take you deeper into NOT managing it.  Speaking for my own situation, it’s useful for me to say: “Because of underlying weakness and historical issues, I stand a much greater chance of injury if I lift things above shoulder height, so I’ll avoid doing that.” It’s less useful to say: “I’m limited, so I can’t lift things, so I won’t.”  It’s useful to acknowledge where pain stops being a good guide and is just distressing/ distracting/ a sleep-killer.  It’s less useful to shy away from all pain and hold myself in a kind of twitching huddle in a corner, hemmed in by painkillers and fear, outraged because I’m not pain-free.

Because I’m never going to be pain-free.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I know I’m always experiencing pain somewhere at any given time. There are some Usual Suspects, but sometimes they all kick off, and sometimes it’s a new place, and  most times it’s only one or two of them.

But if I define myself purely by my pain, and use that as an excuse not to do things: I Am A Limited Person, Here Is My Badge Of Pain, that’s, well, frankly a bit rubbish.  Pain as validation as a lesser being is a weird circular argument that does no-one any good. I wouldn’t expect anyone else to be able to get away with that, so why me?

And pain is clearly not a full-stop. That was the conclusion on the stairs - if I see the muscle burn of good exercise as a landmark on the way to becoming more awesome, I need to start treating the Usual Suspect Injury Pains as landmarks as well, somehow. Whether as a learning point of how far not to push things, or some kind of psychological step on the route to better self-acceptance, or better ability to ignore unfixable pain, there must be some use in it, and seeing it as a full-stop disaster where I swoon in a bower and wait for some bugger to come rescue me is helping no-one.

Not entirely sure where I’m going with this yet, but this feels like a positive realisation, and a potentially very useful mental tool.

Grindstone, meet Shoulder

So, as I’ve just posted, it looks rather like I’m back in the old exercise saddle.

I have bust through the notorious two week point (don’t know about anyone else, but if I can make it through two weeks of good exercise habit, the pattern is generally set until injury) and so far appear to be injury-free (you know, above my usual baseline of "various bits of me are a bit wrong").

So, what have I been up to?

1. Cycling
2. Large Muscle Physio Exercises
3. Small Muscle Physio Exercises
4. Butch Core Mat Exercises
5. Dancing

1. Cycling

I’ve been doing my best to cycle everywhere I can.  This is by no means every day (sometimes I’ve got massive stuff to carry; sometimes I’m not even leaving the house; today I couldn’t find my cycling helmet until after I’d given up and ordered a taxi), but most days, and I’m generally clocking (when the app bloody works) between 3-7 miles every day that I do cycle.

Advantages include cheapness and smugness alongside muscle strength; non-weight-bearing cardiovascular challenge; and the sensation of my lungs "opening up" again; forces me not to carry too much stuff with me.

Disadvantages include smelling bad (or feeling like I smell bad); dangerously ignorant cars; annoying cyclists; headwind; forces me not to carry too much stuff with me ({pout}).

Improvements to be made include being more systematic about where I put my gear, and getting better into a regime for the mornings in order to get to work more on time.

2. Large Muscle Physio Exercises

I’ve only missed one morning physio session in about 8 months, and that was when I was too ill from The Cough to go into work, so I sat on my arse and watched Netflix.  Other than that, I’ve been doing my usual:

leg-lifts (supine, sideways, on my belly)

crunches (normal, side, and slightly twisted)

kicks and crosses

All of these from the floor, and apparently - according to various friends - quite similar to a lot of Pilates moves. Most of them are designed for either 20/ 10 reps. As advised by physio.

Advantages include simplicity; portability; being part of a good morning habit; excellent for core strength; great for a range of leg muscle strength and stability; really good, demonstrably effective way of ameliorating and preventing pain, damage, injury etc. from long-term standing.

Disadvantages include finding enough room to lay flat, arms and legs full stretch in all directions, on a surface that won’t hurt to exercise on; needing to do it before breakfast otherwise indigestion; them doing pretty much nothing for upper body strength/ stability, which I badly need, considering the frequency with which my shoulders/ neck get injured/ go out of alignment/ both; they’re really only any good for maintenance rather than development.

Improvements to be made include getting them done earlier in the morning; finding something maintenancey to add to them for arms, shoulders, etc.

3. Small Muscle Physio Exercises

Instead of waving whole limbs around, these focus on tiny, tight-to-the-bone muscle groups, ostensibly to improve stability. Instead of lifting against gravity, you’re squeezing or pulling against yourself - these are for arms (and therefore shoulders and wrists), and can be done either sitting down or standing up:

pushing palms/ fists against each other

hooking fingers and pulling hands/ arms against each other

palm-against-back, one hand pushes towards the body, the other pushes away (then swap)

All of these forms are done in front of the torso, above the head, and behind the torso, holding the push/ pull for at least ten seconds before moving onto the next form. As advised by physio.

Advantages include them being for shoulder stability, which I badly need; massively portable (I can - and usually do - do them at my desk at work); hard to see how you can injure yourself only pushing against your own strength.

Disadvantages include that they’re super-boring, so it’s difficult to remember to do them unless I’m already injured and thinking about that kind of thing; it’s difficult to discern any difference even after doing them for a while.

Improvements to be made include setting up a thrice-daily reminder to do them, like I have the once-daily to do physio, twice daily for nasty medication, etc.; do some research into how they function and how to spot the difference between doing and not doing them; add more neck ones (which I’m currently not doing because they’re more fiddly and look "weirder" than the arm ones in work!).

4. Butch Core Mat Exercises

A long time ago I went out with someone who was a Navy officer and who taught me how to do a press-up. In fact, taught me that I could do press-ups. He taught me a routine of three types of press-up ("normal", wide-arm, and wacky ones with hands close together to challenge the triceps), and three types of sit-up ("normal", twisted, and crunch). I vaguely remember that I was supposed to switch up between these and do lunges or squats or some other damned thing that I can’t do these days because knees. He also showed me free weights.

A more recent partner taught me about planks and tricep dips, rest days, and doing crazy things like press-ups or planks with your feet elevated (I don’t think I’ve yet done these). Another showed me Russian twists, deadlifts, and how to improve my full-leg-lifts (i.e. both at the same time) in order to make them more challenging. The internet (and Wii-fit) showed me flying press-ups and some crazy versions of crunches.

This, I suspect, is why I used to have a six-pack - I used to do a bunch of this EVERY DAMNED DAY, along with punchball exercises and free weights every other time.

Instead of doing the usual thing that I do which is flail wildly into DOING ALL THE EXERCISES ’TIL I BREAK then advanced pouting for six weeks, I’m moving slowly back into Butch Exercises by doing increased reps and increased sets of only four forms to start off with, including lying the hell down between sets:

a) "Normal" press-ups. Generally up to 20-25, except for at the end of the event, when the sets are more like 10.

b) Planks. I’m now up to minimum 1 minute, even at the end of the event (although a lot of swearing is currently involved when I come out of the form on the fourth go-round), and up to 1:40 max. I know this isn’t much, considering that the world record is in hours, but it’s my best, dagnabbit...

c) Double leg-lifts. I’ve injured myself with being over-enthusiastic with these, so - even if I’m feeling full of vim and strength, I tend to only go to 16 max, even at the beginning of the event.

d) Wide-arm press-ups. Only for the latter half of the event once I’ve warmed up, and - again because of former injury - I keep the set reps to ≤ 10

Advantages include fast speed of discernible differences; really feeling core tightening; butch satisfaction of "proper" aches the following day; done right the press-ups lead to good shoulder strength and - I think - stability; measurable progress (more reps before exhaustion, longer holds on planks); some cardiovascular challenge; have to do them from the feet.

Disadvantages include how easy it is to get carried away and bugger my shoulders, especially the Especially Borked One (left), leading to aforementioned six week pouting; not entirely convinced I’m doing the forms properly (could I be preventing injury with better form?); if I forget to stretch properly afterwards, I’m screwed; not very aerobic; have to do them from the feet.

Improvements to be made include setting limits on sets/ reps and - instead - adding new forms at lower reps; getting some advice about forms.

5. Dancing

Only just got back into this on Saturday just gone. I have no discipline beyond the beat, and making sure I wear vaguely suitable shoes (canvas trainers with ankle support) rather than The Boots. I stamp, pogo, flail, mosh, gurn, wiggle, grin, pirouette, and do fancy-ish footwork with lots of crossing-over of feet, kicking, and double-kicking.

I’m a bloody maniac.

Advantages include the weird fact that I can keep up sustained fast movement to music far longer (HOURS) than, e.g. running on a treadmill, which makes me want to die in a tiny ball of fail; excellent aerobic and cardiovascular exercise; needs no special equipment (except aforementioned change of footwear); by far the most social of my exercise activities; cheap (for me - I go to an indie club 3 miles from my house that costs £4 to get in, with free parking, and £1/ bottle of water); the way I dance means that it’s a full-body workout (sustained rhythmical flailing is surprisingly hard on the arms).

Disadvantages include the fact that the clubbing-dancing I’m doing leads to very-late-to-bed, and further sleep disturbance; not very portable (needs friends, and I’ve only found one club in Cambridge so far that plays my kind of music); it’s all too easy to forget to stretch out afterwards and e.g. have very tight calves hobbled by All The Pogoing (rather like I’m feeling today...); all the attendant issues of clubbing in dodgy little places (unsprung floor which stands fair to bugger joints with impact; no mop-up for perilously-spilled drinks on the dancefloor) and any vaguely mainstream venue (no, mate - just coz I smiled at you while jumping up-and-down to Song Two does not mean I want special cuddles with you); moshing is seriously bad for your neck, dear heavens; badly-coordinated people with interpersonal space issues leading to bruising, and/ or, in this instance, a blistered toe from a poorly-managed stiletto.

Improvements to be made include getting a regular night to go out on, co-ordinating friends; some research into other clubs that might play my kind of dancing music (indie, indie-rock, trance, techno (or whatever the youth call it these days), almost anything from 90s except hard or cock-rock); look at finding ceilidhs/ folk-dancing groups locally, because nothing gets you properly out of breath like a good twmpath.


And that’s your lot for the moment. :D I plan to be updating on the progress on these (including any injuries - my left shoulder’s been feeling a wee bit gimpy as I’ve been typing this...) over the next few weeks/ months

Catching Up…

Well, I appear to be back. Which is an interesting place to be.  Let's review where I went:

In December I'd already been cycling to and from work, and in January had started sessions with an exercise trainer who'd done lots of reading up on HMS/ EDS (and seemed to know more than me) and was feeling quite chipper about my physical health.  My lungs had started to "open up" again, and I was feeling a lot of the benefits of being more physically active.

Then in mid-late-February I injured my neck badly. (Please don't ask how: from experience, we'll both regret it.) Now, I'm used to injuring my neck - it's a bit par for the course with the way my hypermobility works. So I left it alone, doing all the usual right things (reduce burden, immobilise, sleep a certain way) that usually sorts it out within 48 hours.

Then I got back on the bike.  And it became clear really quickly that this wasn't going away, even though it waxed and waned, and I'd have to stop doing an exercise that relied on me being able to look over my shoulder as I no longer could.  I went to my usual physio, who assessed me (yes, I was right: I'd injured something in a different part of my neck from usual, and it was a generally unusual place to boot), gave me some exercises, and asked me to come back.  In the meantime, I was back in taxis and buses, spending a bunch of money on that and physio.  Which, it turned out, didn't work - my neck was busted badly.  She suggested I get X-rayed, and a desperately frustrating cycle of annoyance and admin kicked off.

Short version:

5 second X-ray from one angle - nothing to see, reported by SMS. Wow.
10 minute examination by rheumatoid specialist - you don't have EDS. Er, okay, but why...? Go to a physio. Yeah, er, thanks...
30 minute back-and-neck massage from 19-year-old at a spa in Cardiff - regained at least 50% range of mobility. WOW! {tears of joy}

By this point, it was mid-May. Once the range was back enough for me to at least vaguely look over my right shoulder, I got back on the bike, and back into the mat exercises.

One small problem - a persistent cough that started with a bad cold on 1st May. This is buggering my sleep, which means that I spent a while sleeping on the sofa to avoid disturbing everyone in the house, which means the kind of discomfort you'd imagine. Also: a ridiculous amount of nosebleeds. Joyous.

This, however, has not noticeably stopped me from becoming more active again.  For a start, it's not in my lungs, as far as I can tell, so my breathing itself is okay. And once I get past a certain point in any exercise event, all the nice neurochemicals kick in and open up my respiratory tract, reducing inflammation and phlegm, and I have this wonderful phase for a brief period afterwards where I just don't cough. :)

The next post will deal with what I've been doing, exercise-wise. :)

Trumpet

Bear with me, gentle readers; I appear to be having some kind of personal revelation. It goes something like:

• I am good at a variety of different things.

• In some cases: very.

• This is not a bad thing.

• If I do well at something using these skills, it is not "cheating".

• I deserve to do well at stuff, especially if I continue to try to bring people with me.

• I need to stop hobbling and muzzling myself.

• It's not too late to work to realise my potential, and I'm not too old.

• I really am not too old.

• Life is beautiful and terrifying, and I can be part of that beauty and terror.

• Cool.

That's it, basically.

Some advice about brain weasels

Or: what to do when you’ve started the day with negative emotions...

More of my friends are adopting the “brain weasel” nomenclature than I would have, perhaps, anticipated. This makes for quite efficient conversations:

“My brain weasels are loud today...”
“Tell ’em to sod off, the little buggers.”

“Sorry: I have brain weasels today.”
“No worries - let me know if you’d like to meet up later...”

Today someone was able to use the term to let me know that they were having a difficult morning. Then they asked: did I have any advice?  Turns out that... yes. I rattled off a pretty decent list. Revised version below, because I thought it might be useful to others:

Help! I’m in work and the brain weasels are snapping. What can I do?

Thing is, you can’t exactly go back to bed, can you? So here are some work-compatible things to do:

1. Maslow it - drink more water (go and do that right now), eat well, ensure you feel safe/ physically comfortable in your environment.


2. Adrenalin seems to mute them. Maybe go for a brisk trundle at lunchtime. If something more strenuous is an option, maybe consider that...


3. Listen to (powerful, strong, happy, or positively defiant) music. Plug it in, baby!


4. Pick a thing (it can be absolutely tiny) and do it well today. That often shuts them up. If it works, do another one. Rinse, repeat. One step. Then the next. The day is over. You won.


5. Treat them like a belligerent fundamentalist/ troll* - when you answer their snide little accusations, they’ll switch tack. You can choose to ignore them or refute every argument. Both approaches take energy, but ignoring/ refuting also demonstrates control, which giving in and admitting they’re right (they’re not) does not (it also saps energy, but builds no strength).
   
   Think of this like physical health:


1. If you exercise, it’s hard work at first and hurts, but less work long-term, because you have a fitter body to carry you around in.


2. If you either go into to denial or decide that you’re determined to beat an illness, you’re WAY more likely to than if you just meekly give in. Hardiness for the win.

A favourite refutation I came up with recently was when I was trying desperately to find something, brain foggy and starting to hyperventilate, and the weasels said: “Hah! You’ve lost it! You’re rubbish! You don’t know where it is!” and I found myself saying: “Yeah? If you’re so much bloody** better than me, you can tell me where it is then! No? Then shut the hell** up! From now on, you’d better prove you’re actually better than me any time you try this nonsense, or you forfeit all right to bloody** criticise me!”

I won’t deny it - that did feel good...! :)


6. In my experience/ opinion, comfort blankets DO NOT WORK. They will just give the metaphysical rodents more ammunition. So do something challenging you know you do well; don’t resort to sugar/ caffeine/ alcohol/ Facebook/ mobile phone games, etc.


7. Find someone pleasant to talk to who has the time and energy for you. Don’t feel you have to talk about your problems, but do talk about stuff you like as well as stuff you don’t like.


8. Make a plan for the evening that involves healthy behaviour (exercise, good food, early night, helpful social time, etc. - even if all that happens is you go to bed early out of all of those, making a plan and executing it will feel excellent and tell those pernicious, furry idiots off good and proper)

And that’s it, really. Obviously you may not be able to do more than one or two of these in a work day (though 1, 2, 4, and 8 are pretty feasible!), but it’s a start... :D I’m thinking of printing a simple version of this out and putting it somewhere prominent for when I feel like I’m having/ about to have a bad day myself... Any further suggestions?


______________________________
*fundamentalists come in all forms - pick your poison, it’s not all religious

**The language was a lot worse than that - swearing is very energising, if you’re me...

Today is the first day...

... of the rest of the working year.

(I appreciate that some of you may have worked between 24th December and today - sorry about that! I, however, have not. Benefits of working for an academic-related organisation, I guess...)

So! :) How’s it been going for you lot? Me, I’ve been powering through the day on rampant optimism and a renewed determination to prove to myself that I am a worthwhile human being (I have had too little broken sleep - more about this in another post, I suspect). In fact, that’s the core of my “resolution” for this year - basically: feel better about myself.

Obviously there are various different elements to this (i.e. pretty much every aspect of my life! :)), but for each one I do actually know what I need to do, I’ve just not always been doing it. So, in order to inspire myself, I reckon I just need to keep that clear “feel better about myself” goal in front of me every time I find myself wussing out and cutting corners. Because when I work at doing things right, I feel better about myself.
 
Ludicrously simple; diabolically difficult.
 
I’m not a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. I generally start on projects/ changes/ movements that look like them in December, when it’s dark, and miserable, and cold, partly to prove to myself that you don’t need a set date to kick off Doing Stuff Right, just a good mindset. Sometimes I start them in April, or February. Or on a Thursday or something. Because I know that if I keep waiting for some kind of perfect kick-off signal, I’ll keep on finding excuses.
 
I have a narrow line to walk here - let me introduce you to the brain weasels (I’m not going to dignify them with title case): they represent the snarly, snide, tricksy little bits of me that are always looking for reasons to put me down. They say tiny, mean things - their sharp, narrow teeth and sinuous forms are slippery and insistent. They are composed of fear and are like handy little pocket abusers - you may even have left the originals behind, but they’ve sowed tiny, portable, conveniently-sized memes to take with you everywhere. (I’m sure you know the kind of thing they like to say: you’re not good enough, you’re a failure, you’re a disappointment.) They snigger every time you trip or drop things or run late. And I do those things a lot... They represent the opposite of “you are a worthwhile human being”.

They’re wretched little bastards and they need to be stopped. Or, okay, well, transmuted somehow.
 
The ways to beat brain weasels need to be as multitudinous and flexible and cunning and (nearly as) small as they are. Because the more you give in to their assertions about your worth, the more you’ll give up putting effort into doing stuff right, and the more fodder there’ll be for their grindy little teeth. I’ve seen this negative spiral demonstrated very clearly in my physical health, and it’s all too evident in my mental health, if you know where to look.  I want to get a series of positive spirals going - feel better, do better, feel better, do better, feel better, do better, feel better, do better...
 
What’s the narrow line? Well, years of playing host to the weasels has left me with some difficult-to-repurpose mental constructs in which the furry little gits flourish. And one of them is where I find it really, really difficult to take compliments. Because I may know fine well that the weasel runs are ridiculous, and that they make me miserable, but I’m used to them, see? They’re home. They’re where I’m comfortably miserable.  So the more loudly people are nice to me, the less I can take it. I get so overwhelmed with this enthusiastic evidence that at least part of me looks dramatically different to the Worthless Map of Fay (© Weasel Enterprises) that I throw up as many big walls as I can to stave off the information overload. Go too far and I cry and shake and run away. Literally. It’s messy.

Slowly I’ve been working on my anti-weasel techniques. I’m being scientific about it, which means being better at spotting both negative and positive patterns, instead of taking either states for granted or treating them as neutral. I have learned that the following things are particularly good at helping silence/ squish weasels:

1. Walking. Anywhere, at any time. But it needs to be fast/ vigorously. At my own pace, anyway. 
    
2. Dancing. Stomp on their little heads! Drown them with music! Okay, maybe just stun them into submission and muffle their annoying squeaks to the occasional half-hearted “you’re too old to be doing this!” (Yeah, I’m manifestly not, so shut up! :D) 
    
3. Hosting performances. You’d think that the nerve-wrackingness of this and the massive potential for tripping up (Get the names wrong! Stutter! Offend someone accidentally!) along with opportunities for jealousy would be fodder for the invisible shit-stirrers, but somehow: no. I enjoy the performances too much to be jealous, and frankly, when you’re running an event, you have no time for weasels. 
    
4. Spending time with particular friends. You know the type - diverting yet supportive as appropriate. Also: the wider I allow my network to be, the better my chances of spending time with people whose personal styles will fit the mode I need to be in. And the less chance of the weasel who says “you’re just a burden to your friends!”  
    
5. Properly singing something I know well. There’s a pattern emerging. 
    
6. Spreadsheeting. Doing something both systematically and creatively. It’s something I have developed good... wait... excellent, expert skills in, and it’s something I can sit quietly and nerd out over.

The answer appears to be: do things irrefutably well with good people. Keep pushing at (sometimes tiny) increments of What Could Be Even Better so that the evidence for being worthwhile mounts manageably. Get the adrenalin flowing. Allow meaningful connections with other humans. Demonstrably build up the ability to be more awesome.

It’s not about comfort blankets (because the more moping/ eating crappy food/ taking a taxi rather than cycling/ playing dumb computer games I do, the worse I feel) but about strapping in tightly before heading off towards the horizon, laughing uproariously and whooping at the steep bends.

So I will be giving myself tiny compliments. Every day. Not ignoring the bad stuff (because weasels loooove it when you’ve got stuff you’re procrastinating over - oh my yes!), but aiming for the kind of objective approach I’d use with someone who isn’t me. And also coming up with ways to improve things.  In other words, I’ll be running a Lessons Learned on my life. Every day, if I can, no matter how vestigially, sometimes.

And, in the meantime: getting fitter, having more fun, and being more awesome, a bunch of which I’ll be posting on here. :)