Returns

So, I went back to to the gym last night.  After a gap of {checks} nearly 6 weeks. Hmm. The chronology (for those of you interested in the anatomy of excuses) goes something like this:

14th March - final gym session before week of rest before The Walk
23rd March - The Walk
24th March - Beginning of further week off gym to recover
31st March* - "My legs still hurt, a few more days off won't hurt"
2nd & 3rd April - Stomach bug, off work
4th April - "Still feel wobbly"
7th April* - "I think I'm getting a cold"
14th April* - "I keep getting nosebleeds"
16th April - "I feel really mentally/ emotionally feeble, AND I miss the gym... hmmm"
17th-21st April - Away on holiday
22nd April - "I'm just recovering from lack of sleep on holiday"
22nd April - "Actually, sod it, I'm going to the gym tomorrow"

(* dates approximate)

So I did.  No more excuses, no more bollocksing about, waiting for the stars to align for exercise.  I've spent weeks not even walking very far in the mornings or evenings, wasting money on taxis to get me into work.  While there are depressing, stressful, annoying things happening in my life, and I can't fix them with stationary bikes, I can:

1. damn well tire myself out in a good way so that I get the sleep necessary to help problem-solve in my poor brain;

2. feel a sense of achievement in clocking goals and doing a difficult thing well;

3. get back that sense of purpose and personal puissance that comes with feeling physically fit;

4. treat myself well - that's actually treat myself well, by giving myself the gift of fitness, rather than "treat" myself, which amounts to doing a series of passive things that are actually quite harmful (sitting around in unhealthy poses, eating crappy food, staying up late to watch films/ read books that will still be there tomorrow, getting cabs instead of the bus, mithering, "having a rest from physio", etc.).

5. be kind ("you had a few rubbish weeks, let's move on"), and not punish myself ("stupid cow! give me a gazillion press-ups so that you injure yourself, can't sleep right, and feel even more wretched! you deserve grief for feeling bad!")

6. get myself a new goal to aim for.


Yesterday morning I just grabbed my gym bag, ignoring the fact that the kit was not clean (yes, I got myself clean socks, I'm not a total barbarian!), and set off after work (after realising that I'd been killing time with extra bits of work that could wait, presumably trying unconsciously to make it "too late" to go) to the gym, walking fast, trying not to overthink things.

Luckily, my brain still seems to retain the well-worn groove that came from doing that very thing twice a week or so for eight weeks, so as soon as I'd flipped the "walking to the gym from work with my gym bag in my hand" switch, I was fine.  In fact, I'm worried that I did too much on the stationary bike because I was working to the old pattern from 6 weeks ago.

(I've just worked it out explicitly - I've now spent nearly as much time Not Doing Exercise and Being Inactive Again as I did the opposite. Darn it!)


I did 20 minutes or so of sliding resistance on the recumbent bike, then about 6 minutes on the rowing machine.  I figured that my neck/ shoulder problem was up to it.  I'll monitor over the next couple of days for pins-and-needles, etc.

Yes, I stretched out afterwards.  And yes, I'm a bit sore today.  And yes, my heart-rate was more elevated than it would have been back in March, but less than it was in January. So, you know, I haven't lost loads of fitness... :)

Bad Poet, No Biscuit

My dietary shifts are generally going well - I’m eating a lot more vegetables, especially raw ones; I’ve been ensuring that I drink at least two litres of fluids a day every day; and am being more punctilious than ever in making sure that my grains are whole (where available).

I’ve also largely cut out refined sugars, choosing to eat dried fruit in their place, or just go without.

And yet biscuits. Mmmh. They are a major weakness in this otherwise annoyingly virtuous pattern. Somehow, last night, I persuaded myself that an “emergency” necessitated biscuit- and crisp-eating. That said emergency could have been obviated with some planning and organisation on my part was by-the-by. At least they were hobnobs, I suppose...

Last night’s literal running-around saw not only a little victory or two (“snack food before the show? Why yes, I’ll have a wrap and a smoothie, thanks...”) but several little disappointments. I have not been listing them (getting taxis, not losing weight, days when I say “screw salad, I’m having bacon!") as I generally just get dispirited when that happens - historically ingrained memes leading me to say: “Yes, you’re right - I’m worthless, let me prove that to everyone, especially me...” I discovered, all too late in life, that saying “well done, you cycled into work once this week!” works better than “lazy git, you caught the bus four times this week - shaaaaame...” That’s not to say that stick doesn’t work for some extremely short-term goals, but I’m clearly more of a carrot person.

If that’s even a thing.

It was a healthy evening for lots of other reasons, though - the only cab taken was at the end of the night, when buses had vanished; I had lots of social contact (including hugs, random jabbering, and positive strokes from people who are good at sharing that kind of thing); I got to holler admiration at one of my spoken word idols; and then there was the dancing.

Wednesday was supposed to be a rest day, so no physio, gym, or mat exercises. Instead I ran, walked fast, stood around for ages, and then bounced up and down periodically, flailing as much as space would allow while shaking my head. Hmm...

I brought the stick with me. I still have to do that for prolonged standing, and even its shooting-stick charms couldn’t obviate my knees hurting like bastards today.

I have a feeling my physiotherapist would not approve... Especially considering that I went to the gym today as well.

Maybe I need to revisit that whole “rest” concept.