Wednesday Weigh-In Week 252 — 0.4 kg lost. That’s 72.9 kilos gone in total. Which means I’ve blasted 86.72% of my excess lard, with 11.3 kilos to go. Beware of the StatsDork!
Life has been boring lately, and that’s just fine by me. It’s been a chaotic year, what with that ridiculously short engagement, moving house, running off to Vegas, Home Office wrangling, forays into running, media whoring and all those silly weddings. And of course that came after two years of madness with moving overseas and becoming a travelling bum. So it’s a pleasant change to slip into a predictable-days quiet-nights boring married person routine for awhile.
Not that I intend becoming a boring married person and surrendering to middle aged cliches – I’m too used to adventure now to ever allow that to happen. But I am using this break from Excitement to tackle the steaming pile of neglect that has been my Everyday Life. I made a list of all the mundane tasks that I’ve been avoiding for years and have been slashing through said list like a madwoman. The Scottish Companion caught the same bug so together we have completely blitzed our little flat and now it’s really becoming a cosy home.
We have sorted out every single cupboard, wardrobe, drawer, shelf, cardboard box, suitcase and hidey-hole. I can now find towels in the linen cupboard, and know the whereabouts of all my socks and undies thanks to a new chest of drawers in the bedroom. The cutlery is sorted in an organiser tray, instead of being randomly shoved into the kitchen drawer in a tangled pile of metal. My shoes are in a shoe rack thingy. My coats are on hangers instead of the Towering Chair Pile of Doom. All the DVDs are on the shelf, together at last! The old magazines have been recycled. The bank statements have been filed. Two years of recipes and exercise articles and crappy holiday souvenirs have been sorted into smug little folders with dividers and labels and plastic sleeves. The study is still tidy and I have room for my Reebok step and weights so I can do some lifting without the barbell clonking into the walls. I can even lift weights naked now because we finally have some curtains up. Huzzah!
Oooh just stepping inside the flat after work these days makes me shudder with multiple geekgasms; there’s a place for everything and everything’s in its place! I can flop down on the couch knowing I won’t get a remote control stuck up my arse because they’re safely nestled in the designated Remote Control Bowl. Joy!
It may sound like I am exaggerating the positive effect of a good spring cleaning, but it really has put me in a positive, productive frame of mind. I feel calm and sane, it’s great not having to waste so much energy on domestic minutiae. This mood has carried over to my Lard Busting Mission, where I’m still chugging along nicely. I did all my exercise last week and ate well. The scales showed a small loss, but my clothes are fitting like a dream and I have loads more energy. I am desperate to blast the last of my blubber but I am not going to set deadlines or crazy targets. Consistency, focus and hard work over time without extremes – that is best for my body and more importantly for my mental health.
Dude, winter! It sucks.
Well, it has its advantages. Like hiding under layers of clothing. There was a total of one day this summer that I had to Get My Legs Out in public. One DAY it was hot enough for a skirt. 26 bloody degrees. You almost forget you even have legs living in Scotland. Of course, you get the skanky types that put their pale and mottled pins in a mini-kilt in January, but if you’re a shy thing like me you can get away with jeans all year round. It wasn’t til I was back in Australia that I remembered how loathsome and doughy my thighs are. It is much easier being fat in a cold climate.
One disadvantage of winter is that the sun doesn’t rise til 9am and it sets about 4pm. I leave for work at 6.30am and get home at 5.30 – 6pm, so I live in a world of darkness. You can see how this sucks if you want to be a runner. Especially when the local council doesn’t turn on the lights in the lovely big local park and running on the pavement makes your knees hurt and that’s if/when the pavement isn’t bloody icy. I still have the weekend, but that’s not enough. I need to add in some treadmill runs. This worries me though as my knee still isn’t 100%. Despite my beautiful new running shoes my knee has resumed with the crunchy noise and never feels quite right when I run. I could do 75 RPM or Body Combat classes and not feel a twinge, but after one or two runs the knee protests again. I need to revisit the exercises the physio gave me and worker hard on my leg strength. I wasn’t consistent enough with it before. Bad me.
I was ranting about the winter weather dilemma in an email to the amazing running guru Julia, and among her repsonse she said, If you’re not that into running it’s really difficult to get any enthusiasm up for it during the winter.
This really got me in the guts and I’ve been thinking about it all day. I so desperately want running to work for me. Why? Just the memory of that 5k race and how the months of effort culminated in that amazing feeling of achievement. I love how running is about self-discipline and gut-busting effort. I love how I hate most every step of a running session but get such a thrill when I’ve finished it. But am I really into it?
I’ve been going back to Body Combat classes lately, and while I enjoy the kicking and punching, I don’t hate it like I hate running. And that is disappointing. I don’t get that feeling halfway through the class of, "I can’t do this! I am going to die! It’s too much!". THAT is how I measure a good workout these days – whether or not I feel that perverse physical and mental pain. Body Combat feels a little girly now, to be honest. On the other hand. I hate my RPM (spinning) class just as much as running. I watch the clock during every song, feeling my quad muscles prickle and scream, glaring at the instructor and wanting to cry. It’s only 45 minutes but you can push hard and make it burn like hell. I loathe it, but that is what I love about it. Does that make any sense?
So we’ve established I like the idea of pushing yourself to physical and mental limits, which is something I discovered via my forays into running. But I don’t know if I am into running or just the idea of running/ being a runner. I loved the whole process of learning about it — being virtually trained by Julia, the planning and routines, the magazines and books, the web forums and shoe guides. But the actual running? The long-suffering Scottish Companion could attest to my tedious bitching about every single step, which almost overshadowed the post-run euphoria. And with this on-again off-again knee problem, I question my commitment with my reluctance to spend money on physio or orthotics or whatever it would take to get it sorted. And I know if I was really into running, I would buy some crazy winter snow-proof running shoes and thermal pants and strap a torch to my forehead and go out running in the winter dark.
Am I just making excuses? Am I just not into it? Am I just a casual summer runner? Am I a whingey, lazy bastard or is it just not for me? I will have to get back to you on that one.