The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl

Cycletta Report

I woke up Sunday morning feeling ready to spew, the usual nervous routine! I choked down a bowl of porridge while trying not to look at Gareth and Gillian's cooked breakfasts... the sight of scrambled eggs and greasy sausages was totally giving me the boak!

Off to lovely Tatton Park. There were over 800 women taking part in Cycletta on all manner of bikes. We started in waves of ten. I did a cheerful "woohoo!' as we whizzed over a cattle grid then down through the park, sunlight streaming through the tree-lined paths. Then out onto the big bad open road!

First two miles were fast and fun, grinning to myself at the visual of chunky me on clunky mountain bike and tiny Gillian on her tiny Brompton folding bike.

Then Gillian says, "We're going pretty fast, don't overdo it now!". Good advice, whoops! I felt awful during Miles 4-6. My rubbish knee burned on every downstroke, I had that shooting pain in my glute and my stomach felt dodgy. I couldn't take my eyes off the bike computer, doing fractions to figure out how far there was to go.

Then a bunch of speedy women whooshed past in the opposite direction, already on their way back to the finish line (part of the course was a loop). They yelled "KEEP GOING!" in such cheery tones I wanted to slap them. Then I got overtaken by a woman on a poncy bike with a freakin' wicker basket!

"Well isn't that just DANDY!" I sputtered to Gillian, feeling really really cranky and lardy.

Then I remembered that I'd vowed to enjoy the moment as it was happening, instead of having to enjoy it retrospectively as I always do with these things! So I had stern talk with self... Dude... you've travelled a stupid long way for this and you have dragged your friend and husband with you, and you trained for ages and people have sponsored you and do you REALLY want to look like a whiny brat... so SUCK IT UP cupcake! Turn this around!

I made a conscious effort to look at the scenery, feel the air on my skin, notice how strong my legs felt, just really ABSORB everything going on... thinking about how good it felt not to be sitting brooding on the couch wishing life could be different.

We got to Mile 9 and I said to Gillian, "Make a note! Mile 9 and I'm enjoying it!"

Mile 10 was a food stop. I really didn't want to stop but I needed the loo. Admired my beetroot face in the port-a-loo mirror. They had lots of crappy chocolate and sweets which I avoided (memories of dodgy stomach at Moonwalk '08!) and had some orange segments instead... lovely!

The remaining 14 miles were BLOODY FANTASTIC. Sure I was dying on some of the hills, I hesitated too long at an intersection and nearly got barrelled by a car, my chain came off at mile 15, I got stung by a wasp at mile 16...

Sample only. Not actual wasp.

...but I felt so alive and kept thinking, enjoy this enjoy this enjoy this. We rolled past quaint pubs, cottages with thatched roofs and climbing roses, wholesome people on horses... and a dead badger. Poor bugger. Oooh, and I even overtook a few people!

"Make a note!" I yelled to Gillian, "Mile 22 and still loving it!"

Finally we were back in the Park! There was a sneaky bit where we thought it was over but there was another half mile loop to go... my knee was sore and I felt like I'd been kicked in the lady parts, despite padded saddle and padded shorts and a naturally padded arse. But then I saw the finish line! I was woohooing like a deranged woman. FINISHED!

Dr G was waiting nearby. "Soooo?"

"IT WAS BRILLIANT!"

He looked absolutely stunned. "Well! Never thought I would ever hear such a positive statement out of you while straddling a velocipede!" Bwahahaaaaa. Smart arse.

I looked at my bike computer: 02:01:39, average 11.8 mph! Sooo much faster than my training... all thanks to lack of Scottish hills + unbridled enthuasism ;)

Then I got a text with my official time: 40km/24miles in 02:10:24 - of course the bike computer paused while I was on loo break/chain fixing/wasp swatting. Still... SO PLEASED with that as the snaily pace of my training rides indicated a 2.5 - 3 hour finish.

Cycletta was a great event, very well organised. It was heartening to see so many women across a wide range of ages, shapes and cycling experience - it was a very welcoming, non-intimidating atmosphere. I'd been really worried after the event lost its closed roads status, but the marshalls made it feel very safe.

But most of all I owe the feeling of safety to The Amazing Gillian. 24 miles is a warmup for her so she just freakin' rocks for coming along and helping me not get run over. Thank you so much comrade! Also have to say a huge thank you to Gareth, for not stabbing me on the training rides. You rawk!

So, I'm really happy with how it went and glad I got over my internal BS and enjoyed it while it was happening!

Afterthoughts...
Three days later I'm still feeling delirious and so fired up to keep going. I want to keep working on my Fear Of The Road and my inability to do hand signals. I also feel a new sense of purpose for getting back in shape - it's hard work hauling so much booty up the hills, I tell you.

It sounds so cheesy and perhaps quite pathetic, but this experience has reminded me that I am worth taking care of. That life is so much better when you treat your mind and body with kindness and respect, not dulling the edges with rubbish food and inactivity. It takes work to feel good, but I'm feeling like I am worth making that effort.

Why has it taken so long to remember this? To really feel it and believe it deep down? I really don't know. But I'm going to roll with it!

Disclosure: I was offered a "media place" on the Cycletta event thus my entry fee was waived. Click here for full details.

ETA: While I added a cheeky link in the post above, I wanted to shout out properly that I raised a few quid for the MS Society. Huge thanks to my family and pals who sponsored! If anyone out there fancies supporting this great cause, here's my link to donate. You can find out more about the work the Society does to provide information and support as well as funds for multiple sclerosis research on their website, www.mssociety.org.uk.

Cycling Tips

If you're reading this on Sunday, I'm in merry old England slowly pootling along on the Cycletta bike ride. I'm writing this on Thursday but I think we can safely insert - freakout, nausea, buttock-clenching fear - right here as per every adventure I've written about over the past decade.

I'll be riding with my friend Gillian who sent me this hilarious video of cycling tips. Can't wait to work "about as clever as giving a balloon to a hedgehog" into a conversation!

Hell on wheels

Every now and then it rains in Scotland (cover your ears while the Obvious Siren goes off) so I do indoor spinning workouts instead.

Gareth is a big fan of these downloadable workouts called The Sufferfest. Cyclists really seem to love the word suffer. You hear it on the Tour de France all the time, "so and so really suffered on the Alpe du Humungous today". Which is fair enough, coz those Alps are bloody gigantic. Anyway, there seems to a big market for suffering in the comfort of your own home. Sufferfest titles of torture include: Downward Spiral, Fight Club and The Hunted. I can only manage twenty minutes of Revolver ("best for masochists" according to the workout comparison chart) so have parked the Suffering for now.

Instead I'm going with Coach Troy of the Spinverals series. He looks scary on the DVD title (see below) but in the workout he's a really wholesome and All-American "great job" kinda guy. Which means I don't swear at him too much as he fries my legs.

Spinervals titles include: Enter The Red Zone, Lean and Mean and THE PAIN CAVE.

I have not dared venture into that cave as yet. I mostly stick to Sweating Buckets, which is pretty much the wussiest one. The workout takes place in a room full of Real People. They're not all made up professionally like people in Jillian Michaels or Cathe DVDs, which makes it worse somehow. At least when there's chicks with perfect hair, teeth and abdominals, there's an air of Unobtainium about the workout so you're not bothered if you can't keep up. But with Sweating Buckets, you're working with the likes of this woman, who's real name escapes me but I call her Granny, coz Coach Troy mentions she's a grandmother of 6. Overachiever!

This next guy does Iron Mans (Iron Men?) so I don't worry about him. He's outta my league.


This guy below is my favorite because he Suffers in a melodramatic fashion. He loves to mop his forehead and shake his head ruefully between intervals.


Next up is The Judge. I can't remember his real name but he's a retired judge so we call him The Judge. Gareth likes to wander in when I'm pedalling away and ask, "Are you beating The Judge? You HAVE to beat The Judge! Take him down!".

Alas, I cannot keep up with The Judge. Beneath his kind, grandfatherly features lurks the mind and legs of a competitor.

Really love this guy.


Sweating Buckets was made in 2001 so I often wonder Where Are They Now? I hope The Judge is alive and well and still outpedalling the youths.

Cycletta: 7 weeks to go!

Time flies when you're huffing and puffing up hills in the very lowest gear... only seven weeks til the Cycletta bike ride!

There is now route information on the website:

Cycletta North's 38.5km route is somewhat deceptive. Unlike its sister in the South, Cycletta North is a series of gradual inclines and declines, turns and straights, so you'll have to keep your wits about you and push throughout.

Dagnabbit! I swear I'd read before, "gently undulating hills". It must have been either wishful reading or I'd read the Cycletta South blurb by mistake. Oh well. There's still seven weeks to go. And 38.5km is a whole 1.5km less than originally thought, even if it the route requires wit-keeping and pushing throughout.

Besides, there is a refreshment stop half way round the course. It's not the Olympics! It is a fun and friendly event. And so far the training is doing exactly what I was hoping it would do - making me not dread getting on the bike. It can be quite exhilarating at times... the wind in my hair, the pollen up my nose; eyes blurry with hayfever tears...

Aside from being unable to get up a hill without using all the gears, the descending also needs work. Braking the entire way down can't be doing the brakes any favours. And my right calf is forever streaked with grease as I seem to press it into the chain on the way down, as if that will stop me flying over the handlebars. No matter how many times Gareth tells me this will not happen ("You are not above the laws of physics!") I can't let go!

New Years Goals Check-in: July

I'm doing monthly updates on my New Year Goals.

July highlights

• Exercise consistency - giddyup! July's initial motivation was a slight SHAME JOB! feeling - the Summer Up & Runners have been busting their arses 3x week and I didn't want to feel slack! But the motivation is now, "coz it feels good and it makes me less grumpy". Can't go wrong with that.
• Cycletta training - I had a few weekends away so alas it was mostly on the spinning bike, but I was consistent and I can feel my fitness improving.
• Seeing a lovely osteopath about my dodgy knee and lower back - after "working around" the pain for about five years. Good to finally understand what's going on.

July lowlights

• Feeling rotten after the first osteopath visit due to these humbling realisations:
  
  • the obesity/weight loss/regain rollercoaster has taken its toll on the bod
  • denial/"working around" the problem for years made the knee so much bloody worse than it had to be
  • kickboxing is off the cards for now.

But I got past the gloom pretty quick, and now focusing on what I CAN do. It doth suck that kickboxing and kettlebells are out for the momemnt (all the squat-esque kettlebell moves anyway)... but Pilates, cycling and upper body weights are IN, baby!

I might look into a punching bag to help with the kickboxing withdrawals. Or just gently clobber Gareth to save money. Not really. Don't call the cops!

August plans: Cleaner eating. There's no getting round the fact that my joints would be happier if I was 20 kilos lighter. I've held steady the past two months and I'd like to make some more progress now. No crazy schemes, just making sure I check in with those portion sizes and hunger signals. I slackened off with that a bit in July.

New Years Goals Check-in: June

I'm doing monthly updates on my New Year Goals.

We're 50% done with 2011! 

June highlights

• Kettlebell Love. Wow that weird lump of iron makes you feel like such a badass. But a lot of the love is for lazy reasons. There's only one item to deal with: no faffing around switching plates on a barbell or putting dumbbells away afterwards. Makes it easier to get past the "I don't wanna" tantrums!
• Bike Non-Hate. I cycled up my very first hill without stopping this month. I know most people achieve this when they're 8 years old, but one must celebrate the victories. I had to use the very lowest gear but at least I got up the bloody thing. I attribute the attitude improvement to this wee cycling computer. Now I can geek out on how fast (okay, how slow) I am going and how far I've been.
• Six months of Food Mood Journal Spreadsheet completeness. Nerdgasms ahoy!
• Six months of not gaining weight and actually very slowly losing, without being an obsessed dieting crazy lady. That feels great after steadily expanding for so long.

June lowlight

• I completely unravelled for about ten days. There have been some challenging times lately and I managed to carry on with the mindful habits for a good while, but for awhile this month I lost it. It started innocently with running out of yogurt for breakfast leading to me deciding to buy a pastry from Starbucks, then a chocolate after lunch, then skipping a few workouts, then feeling really crap then just wallowing that feeling. And while being aware of exactly why I felt crap (which is progress in some ways), I decided to continue feeling crap by making poor choices, not planning meals, ignoring hunger signals and not pausing to think before I ate.

The positives: I've returned to the healthy habits so much faster than previous setbacks. I'm back to Tuning In and the meal planning is sorted so July is looking better.

Mid-Term Review
It's been a modest kind of year so far. But when I think about my mental state and the inability to breathe in my jeans back on January 1, it feels like real progress.

July plans

• Improved consistency with strength training - twice a week minimum. Need to remember how much I enjoy it when thinking of ditching it for a cuppa and a book!
• Cycling cycling and more cycling. There's only three months til Cycletta, eep.

Hope you're all well... thank you gazillions for reading. Apologies for the cobwebs on the blog lately!

Cycletta: A chat with Victoria Pendleton

As mentioned in the last post I'll be taking part in the Cycletta North cycling event in October. Woohoo!

I was offered a "media place" on the ride and I'm usually funny about accepting free things (remember I fartarsed around with those Zumba DVDs last year?). I feel uncomfortable blogging about something for any reason other than "this thought popped into my head today". So why yes to Cycletta?

• It's a cool idea to encourage women to try cycling
• It's in a part of England I've never visited before - good excuse to explore!
• It's on closed roads with "gently undulating hills"... perfect for a fraidy cat!
• It's been bugging the hell out of me that after five years of ownership my bike has actual cobwebs on it.
• Gareth is a mad keen cyclist, as are many of our good mates. Last weekend they all pedalled from Edinburgh to St Andrews and back together. I don't aspire to that level of prowess, but it would nice to:
  • know what the hell when they're on about when they talk about various bike parts
  • perhaps go for a casual pootle around the countryside with them one day
  • instead of wanting to spew at the very idea.

So the plan is to give cycling a proper bash, and if I absolutely hate it after training for and taking part in Cycletta, then I will put the bike on Freecycle (near mint condition!).

. . .

I recently took part in a bloggers' conference call with World & Olympic Cycling champion Victoria Pendleton, who is the Cycletta ambassador. It was very cool to be able to pick the brains of a proper champion cyclist!

She was quizzed on everything from cycling tips to cycling fashion so once it was my turn all the good questions had been covered. I present you with my pair of "Move Over Jeremy Paxman" enquiries:

Do you have any advice for anyone who
a) can barely ride up hills, and
b) is shitscared of coming back down them?

Here is the sage advice of World and Olympic champ Victoria Pendleton:

Going up...

• Make use of your whole gear range. "Lots of people stick to the same couple of gears - you need to be using all of them and know how they feel and when to engage them. Earlier rather than later is best!"
• Alternate sitting and getting out of the saddle to give different muscles in your legs a rest
• Go at your own pace - if you're tempted to go faster than you're capable of or try to keep up with faster rides you'll conk out. She said, "I do suffer from a bit of that riding with the boys sometimes - I have tendency to try and keep up with them then I die a horrible death before I get to the top!"
• Going slower than you're capable of "will make you suffer too", so stick to your natural pace.

Coming down...

• Scan the road ahead of you - "look out for obstacles, potholes and potential hazards"
• Keep your head up - "it's very tempting to just look down when you're descending but it can make you more nervous"
• Using too much brakes can, "make it worse and more dangerous so you have to be able to relax and let the brakes go a little bit"
• If it's very steep it's really helpful to put your weight back over the back of the saddle… so get out of the saddle and move your weight backwards towards the the back of the seat - "distributing your weight that way might make you feel more control on your descent".

I wish I could say I'm looking forward to putting Victoria's advice to the test ;)

Now here's the second question, which was contributed by Dr G:

What's the top speed you've ever reached on the track?

Her fastest ever speed at the velodrome is 78km per hour (48.5 miles per hour): "Riding behind the motorbike on the track gives you a slipstream and you get the chance to go faster than you could on your own. You can't really see much at that speed but it's really good!"

Cooool.

There are two Cycletta events scheduled for 2011:

Cycletta South: Whipsnade Park on Sunday 11th September

Cycletta North: Tatton Park on Sunday 2nd October

Entry price is £45 per event and the deadline for entry is 31 July 2011. For registration and full event information, visit www.cycletta.co.uk 

Image from Cycletta.

Friday Link Feast #15

What do you mean, it's Saturday?!

• The Baby-Sitters Club Changed My Life
  Loved this post by a bloke called Stu about how Stacey The Well-Dressed Diabetic From New York helped the girls in his life understand his Type 1 diabetes.
• Cycletta - Cycling events for women
  Any UK cycling ladies out there? I'll be taking part in the Cycletta North bike ride on October 2 in Tatton Park, Cheshire. Cycletta events are women only bike rides on safe, traffic free roads for complete novices and experienced riders alike.
  
  I was offered a media place and my first reaction when I saw the email was to scream/delete - not coz of the distance (can hear my hardcore cycling pals snorting at 40km ;) but because five years after buying my bike I'm still too shitscared to ride it! Once or twice a year is pretty rubbish Cost Per Ride economics.
  
  But I ended up saying YES coz Cycletta seems like a great way to give cycling a proper go, once and for all. More on this soon - including a wee interview with Olympic Gold medallist Victoria Pendleton (woo!) - but thought I'd mention the event now in case anyone out there was up for it too!
• Medicinal Marzipan - Body Lovin' Homework
  I met Mara at Fitbloggin and she was smart, hilarious and charismatic as heck. As soon as I got home I stalked casually perused her blog and discovered Body Lovin' Homework, a series of writing prompts "created with the express intention of bettering our relationships with our bodies through creative means". I tried out some of the exercises and it was powerful stuff.
• Zen Habits - The Spiral of Successful Habits
  I know I've banged on about baby steps around here far too often but this post reiterates how small actions can grow into honking huge changes!
• Green Gourmet Girafe - Why does food history matter?
  You could spend a week reading this amazing post from Johanna - it's packed with fantastic links and insights about food history and memory and meaning. A must for food nerds!

New Year Goals Check-In: February

I'm doing monthly updates on my New Year Goals. 1/6th of 2011 is gone. Yikes.

Once again I'm late with the monthly update. Aside from feeling lame talking about this stuff with earthquakes and tsunamis going on, I've also been in the kind of overly emotional mood where it's best to steer clear of blogging. The kind of mood where one says or does ill-advised things, as per this hilarious tweet I saw from writer Sali Hughes:

February was a good month with some nice small victories.

• I spent a long weekend in Paris with Dr G (my birthday gift to him - "Here, have an Easyjet ticket! Yeah, I'm coming too!" Everyone's a winner.) and I didn't put on any weight. Blow me down with a feather, I ate mindfully in the land of pastry and cheese.
• I started a Pilates class! For the past four years I've pined for the weekly class we had when I worked at the House of Sport. I finally found a place on a Beginners course (yep, back to Beginner level, d'oh) and really loving it.
• I lost a couple of pounds.
• Food diary still going strong.

Things that didn't go as well:

• Very inconsistent with exercise in the early part of the month.
• Got sloppy with meal planning post Paris. It really helps to buy some bloody groceries!

I am happy with my glacial progress. I'm working more on the exercise and planning this month, but overall it feels like I'm devoting the right level of brain power to the task. There are still the PMS-y moments of I should do more panic, but I know that would mean taking away time and energy from other parts of my life and would no doubt trigger nutty behaviour and serious overeating. So I'll keep plodding along.

It felt like amazing progress to walk around in Paris and not have my guts knotted with regret for stuffing my face nor fear that I'd blown a diet. Instead, somehow I was able to switch off the lard-related chatter in my brain and focus on being there. It sounds cheesy but for the past few years I've not properly savoured some really cool moments because I was too caught up in angstypants thoughts.

This time I tried to focus on all five senses, not just taste. The tiny details of the Notre Dame. The echo of our voices when the river boat went under a bridge. The bright smell of a Vietnamese dinner. The flaky pastry of a chausson aux pommes dissolving on my tongue. The icy night air in my lungs as I raced Gareth around the Louvre pyramids on our bike tour. Gareth's yelp of pain when I accidentally rode too close and stabbed him with my handlebar. The unfortunate stink of that dog poo I failed to ride around.

Good times, people. Good times!

This photo is rubbish but you get the idea!

The Bike Shed

We have successfully wedged our worldly possessions into Cow Poo Manor. There's no garage this time so I'm not quite sure how this pantry/bike shed hybrid is going to work out.

I've had Valentino the Bike for three years now and I reckon I still have enough fingers and toes to count the amount of times we've been out together. The cost per ride is still about £20! Whoops.

I really want to love cycling, so Gareth and I have something in common... but I never think yay, cycling! the way I instantly thought yay, kickboxing! I'm going to have to work a little harder at this one. I did enjoy the ride from the old house to the new, and didn't run out of gears coming up the little hill... so that's a good start, isn't it?

Meanwhile BT stuffed up yesterday so we're not getting the phone on until next week, and I can't sort out the internet until that's installed. We're stuck in the Dark Ages but it gives me more time to enjoy the view from the window. Aside from the Pile o' Poo there are pheasants, robins and sparrows galore... even a freakin' deer lopes past now and then. It is impossible to hold on to gloom with nature poncing around in your face like that. Life is good.

Tuesday Morning Radio

Don't touch that dial! There will be non-pimping posts soon - such as New Years Goals, and how yesterday I got back on a bike for the first time in fourteen months and it sucked and I ran out of gears halfway up a hill and couldn't remember which lever would make the wheels go so I just pressed all of them at once and the chain flew off and I got into a huff and told Gareth to just bloody carry on without me and stormed off home.

But first I have to do a few things, namely twenty radio interviews on Tuesday morning with random stations in random American towns (and two in Ontario!). If you're up early and fancy tuning in, click the link below for the schedule!

Thank you again for your comments and emails, it really means a lot :)

All interviews are Tuesday 6 January and times are EST.

06:48-07:00	Toronto, ON	CHUR-FM
07:05-07:15	Norfolk, VA	WXGM-FM
07:40-07:50	Columbus, OH	WBEX-AM
07:50-08:00	New York, NY	WLNA-AM
08:00-08:10	National	ABC Radio Networks
08:10-08:20	Grand Rapids, MI	WLCS-FM
08:20-08:30	Kingston, ON	CFLY-FM
08:40-08:50	Roanoke, VA	WAMV-AM
08:50-09:00	Minneapolis, MN	KWLM-AM
09:05-09:15	St. Louis, MO	KFUO-AM/FM
09:30-09:40	Kansas City, MO	KAIR-FM
11:15-11:25	Colorado Springs, CO	KCMN-AM

These ones are being taped so not sure when exactly they'll air. Perhaps later the same morning.

Rochester, NY	WHAM-AM
Boston, MA	WDIS-AM
Charlotte, NC	WSAT-AM
Boston, MA	WATD-FM
Carbondale, IL	WSIU-FM
Columbia, MO	KRES-FM
Minneapolis, MN	WMIS-FM
Regional IL	WQUB-FM

Goals Goals Goals 2008

Righto. 2008 Goals! It's been a little weird this year because losing weight is no longer the mission. So where do we go from here?

Considerations

1. I am done bloody done with obsessing about weight, eating and exercise.
   HOWEVER...
2. My flesh really needs to stay within the confines of my clothes, due to the financial/social implications of bursting out of them.
   AND...
3. Given my long and colourful relationship with food, a certain watchfulness is required!

Because it never ends. There's never a moment when you lunge across the finish line and get a medal and a marching band plays a jaunty tune. But hopefully staying in my jeans won't have to be a dull and dirty task. I struggled in the latter half of 2007 when life got ultra-stressful, but I'm slowly getting it together again. For the first time in living memory I got through Christmas without gaining weight. It was odd but pleasant to start the new year without the usual bloated panic.

So my goals this year revolve around exercise. When I do the exercise, I feel happy in my skin. If I feel happy in my skin, I don't feel the desperate need to get lost in the biscuit tin. The goals incorporate a few things that really float my boat:

1. Cardio with Pals - cardio basically bores the shit out of me so involving friends makes it a social appointment instead of a chore
   
2. Physical and Mental Challenge - I feel wracked with Calvinist guilt if I rest on my laurels. I have to push on to new frontiers, especially frontiers that fill me with fear and dread... otherwise a piano will fall on my head for being idle and complacent!
   
3. Structure and Purpose - I've never felt so healthy and positive as during my 5K training back in 2005. I liked the schedule, the challenge, the inching towards a goal. I ate healthily because it made me run better, not because I was freaking over the scales. I want that feeling back again!

So my exercise goals are:

1. Keep on kickboxing - social and violent, how can you go wrong? I am determined to nail the spin kick without feeling the need to vomit.
   
2. Lift weights twice a week - CONSISTENCY, dammit! I was so stop-start last year that my overall strength didn't increase much. This year shall be different!
   
3. Stretchy stuff once a week - in previous years I always vowed to do it twice or more but it never happened. Time to be realistic. So one yoga or pilates DVD or a class if feeling adventurous.

And the big ones... fun fun fun...

4. Train for and complete the Edinburgh Moonwalk - a marathon-distance charity walk in June. Basically you start at midnight and pace 26.2 miles through the streets of Edinburgh in your bra (and shorts or trousers, naturally). Over ten thousand lassies doing it all for cancer research! We've got a wee team happening at work and I am dead excited - time for a new challenge. It will be long and tough but I will geek out with the training schedule!
    
5. Do the Sea to Sea cycle route - this is a popular 140 mile jaunt right across the north of England -- from Whitehaven on the Cumbrian coast to Tynemouth on the North Sea coast. Dr G did it last year and had a grand ol time, despite the big bad hill in the middle. I stupidly agreed to give it a crack in 2008. To be honest, I'm not sure about it at all. It's a truly laughable idea right now. I'll have some really bloody serious work to do, given my current Absolute Beginner status; the fear of going down hills and inability to pedal up them. Let alone cycling for a few days in a row. Hmmm. We're planning our trip for early September. Hmm hmm hmm. But it's ON THE LIST and out there baby, so I'll give it a red hot go!

American Cycle

Gareth has decided that he prefers to remain an enigma, so I'm afraid it's back to verbose ol' me again!

My gut was sore from laughing at his entry; it took him all of twenty seconds to tap out yet he'd managed to distill seven years of public babbling and a lifetime of lard-related angst.

I'd been feeling self-conscious as it is lately, doing press for the book and sometimes being struck mute mid-interview thinking, What a ridiculous thing, to spend so much time going on about the size of ones arse.

But I'll keep on anyway, because I've been meaning to tell you about what was quite possibly The Greatest Day of My Life. Woohoo!

(Warning: I'm really knackered therefore beware of rambling and excess exclamation!)

You may recall my road cycling debut of mid-October - tears and trembling and brown underpants. It was a crash course of sorts, because the following week we were off to New York and I'd booked us on a cycling tour.

At first it seemed like a crafty way of disposing of Gareth for a few hours so I could do some shopping, but then I decided I wanted in, too. Sure I have no peripheral vision and I cannae hand signal but I've done twenty minutes on a Scottish country road... LET THE MUPPET TAKE MANHATTAN!

We assembled at a bike shop near Union Square – me and Gareth, three chicks from Kansas and a Melbourne lad with wholesome soap star looks. The two tour guides helped us chose a bike. I'd hoped they'd all be pretty pink ones with baskets on the front, but it was a random tangle of scary Sporty Ones. Where was the BELL? How would I cry for help?! My beast had a terrifying 21" frame with a really high crossbar. I called it the Crotch Masher 2000.

There were two guides. They were former couriers, with that lean sculpted-calf appearance that, if a pathetic amateur, might leave you intimidated and tugging at your husband's sleeve, "If you ride off on me, I'll KILL YOU!"

We were told to keep in line behind the front guide and he'd make hand signals telling us when to go or stop or slow down. Nae bother. As we set off I kept my eyes glued to the guide in front and totally blocked out the fact I was in New York otherwise I would have vomited. I couldn't look anywhere but straight ahead and I couldn't change gears because they were twist grip gears and I never knew there was another kind of gear!?

But after five or ten minutes I calmed down. I looked up at a street sign and it said 5th Avenue and I thought Hee hee heeee I'm riding down 5th Avenue! Then a bus whooshed up beside me and I could feel my ribs rattle. The adrenaline kicked in and I spent the next five hours in a state of joy and delirium!

Some highlights:

• Brush with death in the West Village! As we approached an intersection I caught sight of a pet shop with a windowful of tiny yapping dogs. "GARETH, LOOK AT THE DOGS!" I yelled and sailed on towards them, at the same time Gareth yelled, "SHAUNA, LOOK AT THE TRUCK!" Luckily the truck had good brakes and the information is now branded on my brain: Americans drive on the right.
• Bruising my lady parts every time I dismounted gigantic bicycle to take another squinty Holding Camera At Arms Length Shot
  
• Bruising lady parts due to inability to ride in anything other than a straight line therefore barreling through every pothole in the Meatpacking District
• Powering along the Hudson River Greenway - sweet merciful taxi-less bus-less cycle path!
• WALL STREET!
  

• Riding across the Brooklyn Bridge as the sun was setting and laughing in deranged manner, I can't belieeeeeve I'm on the Brooklyn Briiiiiidge on a biiiiike!
• Dismounting on Bridge then looking back to see the skyline lit up and falling in love with New York for the 457th time that week
  
• Zooming past the Supreme Court building and making the DUN DUN! noise from Law and Order
• Weaving in and out of traffic in Chinatown, teeth chattering in terror, completely overwhelmed by all the crazy honking and colours and chickens but loving it!
• Scoffing dumplings and sesame pancakes at a nice hole-in-the-wall type of place
• Riding down a grotty little street that could have been anywhere in the world then looking up to see the Empire State glowing in the distance!

So this happened two months ago and only now can I talk about it without getting teary and/or giggling hysterically. I know people ride bikes in cities all the time; my Amazing Adventures may be your tedious commute. But I had never felt so deliriously happy in all my life...

(even during the last half hour of the tour, when the guide that was supposed to stay at the back of the group drifted forward, leaving me and the Old Lady of Kansas to swear and scream and dither when the lights went amber, as to whether to stop and get left behind or go forth and pedal to our deaths)

... I suppose on some cheesy level it was a bit of a Wow I used to be welded to the couch now look at me moment but more it was so deliciously surreal to see places that you've only known from the telly, while on a bicycle, when you used to ride over sheep poo in Australia. It just makes my mind explode sometimes, life and all its possibilities. Now I wish I could go back to every city I've ever visited and see it again from a two-wheeled perspective.

Good Feeling

So how do you hold on to the Good Feeling? I'm a huge MotoGP fan, and when you see the riders getting interviewed after a race they often talk, in their endearing English As A Second Language way, about their Good Feeling.

"The bike gave me a good feeling today," they'll say if the race went well. And then I snigger, coz I'm sure I'd have a bloody good feeling too, if I was straddling a gigantic vibrating motorcycle! But if things go bad, they will say, "I could not find a good feeling with the bike."

They're talking about the harmony between man and machine. What's this got to do with anything? Well, if you say hypothetically my brain is Valentino Rossi and my body is a motorcycle, then it's clear we're not having our best season. It's that elusive mind/body connection I was talking about last month. I still haven't quite got it back!

The last time I truly felt the Good Feeling was back in Chicago in July. I'd just finished the first round of book edits and was so happy with how it turned out and with the message I'd put across. I felt this lovely peace with everything. It was like there were dozens of those dinky tealight candles, racked along on my ribs, so I was just glowing glowing glowing from within.

But ever since various things... mostly my own sabotaging brain... have chipped away at the ol' confidence a bit. Do not fear, scale-watchers! I've not stacked it back on. It's just that a little black cloud has been loitering like a seagull outside a chip shop.

The other day I went out for a bike ride ON THE ROAD. Analogue bike, that is. I'd never ridden a bicycle on a road before. I grew up on a farm so it was all rattling over gum leaves and sheep shit. After a year of adult bicycle ownership I thought it was time to venture beyond cycle tracks and illegal footpaths, so I got Gareth to take me around the road loop he does a few times a week. I felt a grim determination about the task. I wanted to come back to the blog and report my triumph and be all positive and light and endorphin-ed, like I always do after these new sporty forays... mind and body hooked up again. Instead of clicking New Post and staring at the blank space for an hour.

The ride was bloody terrifying! Especially because I don't have any road sense. I've driven a car once in the past 4.5 years, so I'm rusty on road skills and peripheral vision. Gareth pedalled along behind me on a lazy country road, and yelled out when a car was coming. I would shake my head vigorously in denial, as if that would make them go away! I could barely pedal, my quads were so ridiculously tense.

Somehow we made it to the Big Mother Roundabout with all the buses and trucks hurtling along towards Glasgow. I froze in terror and pulled over, feeling angry tears catch in my throat. It was like that Yoga Incident a couple months ago, where my physical fear and crapness felt like a metaphor for everything else I'd been crap at lately. But after glaring at some trees for ten minutes I got back on, approached the roundabout and made the shakiest hand signal ever and arooooond we went. DUDES, MY HAND WAS OFF THE HANDLEBAR FOR A WHOLE TEN SECONDS. I can't believe it took me a year to get up the nerve to do that. Mwahaha.

Then I pedalled painfully slowly through a wee village that was far busier than should be legal on a Sunday. Why do people insist on not only driving cars , but parking them and getting in and out of them and flapping their big scary doors!? My teeth were chattering with terror, but then I got the giggles at how I was too knackered to pedal any faster to get out of this situation any quicker.

Finally I made another hand signal - this one more of a limp flash of a Hitler salute - and we were back on a country road. Oh my leggggs. They had nothing left to give! I had to get off and walk for the second last hill. Gareth reassured me he didn't make it either earlier in the year, when he'd put on a slight Winter Coat of lard over Christmas, stillI couldn't help feeling annoyed.

But then we got to the last hill, and I recognised it right away. The same "XTREME" hill I was too terrifed to ride down in February; the same hill I failed to pedal up! It looked so hilariously tiny now. I huffed and I puffed but I got to the top, no worries!

We finally got back home after 1hr 20mins - Gareth usually does it in 45mins, the shapely bastard. I curled up on the couch to listen to my muscles sing. The exercise hadn't brought on the Good Feeling; I'll be honest... but I suddenly felt okay about not feeling the Good Feeling.

I've been very negative recently, thinking that I should be cool with all the Big Changes in my life by now. I worried that I'd never shake it and find my way back again. But the highs and lows of that little bike trip made me see where I've been going wrong. It's impossible to see the way forward if you're too busy beating yourself up. It's not a failure of character if you dare to feel a bit lost and incompetent. Sometimes life gets challenging and things are plain uncomfortable for a sustained period. The Good Feeling is harder to come by, but that doesn't mean you'll never find it again! I keep thinking of that dinky little hill that seemed so impossible six months ago, and remember that I've been here before. I'll be back up to fullhorsepowers soon enough. Vrooooooom!

Tenderised

Two stupid minor injuries in the name of health and wellbeing this week. Firstly, I bit into an apple yesterday. Since spatial reasoning has never been my forte the bite was much wider than it needed to be. Instead of sinking into the fruit, that really pointy tooth sank straight into the side of my tongue. Now I've got a centimetre-wide flappy bit of broken tongue, all swollen and painful.

And then tonight we went to the forest for some off-road cycling action and I forgot to wear my padded shorts underneath my trousers. D'oh! After 90 minutes of pelting over rocks and puddles and big fat tree roots, I am feeling rather tender in the lady parts.

The first half hour of these bike rides always seems to suck. My legs just don't work properly and it's too haaard and I just want to go home because I just don't think I can doooo this today. But when it's done and I'm wiping mud off my bike with a handful of grass before loading it back into the car, that's all completely forgotten.

"Sorry I was such a whingy git earlier," I said to Gareth after a recent ride, "It always feels like I'm not going to make it."

"That's alright," he smiled, "I don't listen to you anyway!"

. . .

In other exciting news, I had another culinary first last weekend - a fresh fig!

Somehow figs had passed me by until now. Once as a child I waited in the car feeling completely mortified as a certain member of my family climbed over a fence of a former WWII prison camp site with a plastic bucket, then raided the fig trees in order to feed their homemade fig jam habit. The jam was always a weird browny greeny colour and freaked me out. The fruit itself looked a bit creepy too.

So when my friend served them up for dessert the other day I wrinkled up my nose. Well I wrinkled it up inside my mind, because it would have been rude to wrinkle it for real! But these figs had briefly been in the oven alongside some fresh peaches so they were warm and syrupy. Then they were dolloped with vanilla creme fraiche. PHWOAR! It was difficult not to moan with all that juicy soft but crunchy goodness... I waited nearly 30 years for this? All week long I've been thinking fig fig fig, I gotta get me some more figs.

That is one of the greatest pleasures in life, I reckon. The moment of surprise when you taste something amazing that you've never tasted before. And knowing there's still a million other untasted things out there all shiny and new. Noice.

Bon weekend, lovelies!

The Hills Are Alive

Oh I would kill for a Freddo Frog right now. Has anyone got one handy?

If I was clever with computers I would make a Dietgirl Automatic Blog Entry Generator. I'm smelling a pattern lately:

1. Shauna reluctantly tries a sporty activity
2. Shauna freaks out/swears/whines incessantly during sporty activity
3. In hindsight Shauna begrudgingly admits sporty activity was quite enjoyable

Forgive me for the recurring themes around here; I will be more weight-lossy soon. Please don't run away! I will talk about vegetables or loose skin or bicep curls. Any requests? It's just that our pathetic excuse for a summer is rapidly dwindling so I have to get my fix of the great outdoors before the soul-crushing darkness returns.

(Memo to Antipodeans - I don't want to hear a word about your Spring arriving early. We've had no more than two consecutive non-rainy days in Scotland this "summer" and our SAD is kicking in three months early, so we don't need anyone rubbing it in :P)

CANOE UPDATE!

Last Thursday night I had my second attempt at canoeing, this time a wee pootle along part of the Union Canal. There were three of us so we took it in turns, two in the boat and one cycling alongside. I ended up paddling most of the time as I was the Most Hopeless therefore needed the practice.

I'd never been up close to the Canal before, just caught glimpses from the motorway to Glasgow. It is rather nice and peaceful in places with lovely bridges to go under and this gorgeous aqueduct to go over. I was feeling very serene and happy, but then said Gareth it was my turn to steer. It's all very well sitting pretty in the front but the real skill is controlling the vessel. Dammit.

Steering SUCKS. Especially with my inability to visualise verbal instructions and translate them into actions. Not to mention my Left and Right issues. Basically we just bounced from one side of the canal to the other for half an hour, smashing into reeds and horrible stingy nettles. I did the usual cursing and bitching and then my English fell apart, STINKING BOAT WHY DO YOU GO THE OTHER WAY WHAT I TELL YOU TO GO!?! I just could not wrap my head around the concept of canoe steering at all. In the end I rammed the boat into the wall just short of Broxburn and demanded to be allowed back into the Princess Seat.

Overall though, it was a nice way to spend an extremely rare sunny afternoon.

BIKE UPDATE!

Tonight we dismantled our bikes and chucked them in the car then reassembled them near a wee forest about twenty minutes down the road for my first-ever off road adventure.

I've been very apathetic towards cycling so I surprised myself by having a BLOODY GREAT TIME! I went through mud and sand and ditches and rocks and big fat tree roots! I went up big hills! I went down big hills! In your face, hills!

I was in a constant state of terror and nearly fell off about 27 times so clenched the bike frame between my thighs as though their mighty bulk would act as a third brake and prevent me flying over the handlebars. Afterwards I was utterly knackered and felt like all 206 of my bones had been dislocated but it was fantastic. I finally understand The Thrill of Going Down Hills. I got a killer workout AND fun at the same time. Who knew?

FREDDO FROG UPDATE!

I still don't have one. Suppose I will just go to bed then. Hope you're all well, lovely comrades!

Calorie Flabshaw

When I write on this site I spew it all out straight from the guts and come back later to turn it into proper English. Or sometimes I'll just make Gareth read it and tell me where the mistakes are. I was saying to him the other night how I've been stuck in this musing, reflective mood lately and every time I write something it feels like an annoying internal dialogue, raising more questions than it answers.

"I feel like the fat blog version of Carrie Bradshaw when they did those voiceovers as she wrote her columns on Sex and the City. Except five million times more irritating."

"Except you would be called Calorie Bradshaw," said Gareth. "NO! Calorie FLABshaw. Hee hee!"

I shall try and write more about fat busting proper, but I am really bumbling along lately and feeling quite inept. Not falling in a heap but not making any real progress with fitness or feeling particularly ZINGY with health, you know? I've got masses of work to do and those recent trips got me off my trusty exercise schedule and the meals were a bit sloppy for awhile there.

Gareth and I went out on the bikes the other night, he did his 10 mile loop and I did my wee 7 miler. It was nice to be outside with the fresh air and humans. I'm happy to report that unlike last time we did not finish at the same time! I have improved! I had been sitting back in the house for a whole FIVE MINUTES before he arrived. Whoa, move over Lance Armstrong!

I really need to learn how to take my hands of the bloody handlebars though. I feel so much more relaxed on the bike - I don't grip so hard, but I still can't quite let go.  The air is choked with pollen and small bitey insects at the moment, and the wind was flinging them all straight into my face. But of course I was too chicken to lift my hand to swipe them away. So I just pedalled blindly, gasping and sneezing and swearing and jerking my head at random intervals. Arrgh.

And isn't funny about women and men, and how like, they're different and stuff?

Love and kisses,
Calorie Flabshaw.

How's The Serenity?

For the first time in eleven years, I've just spent an entire week without the internet. Holy nerdypants, Batman! Gareth and I decided to take our sham marriage to the X-TREME and hole up in a log cabin for a week at Strathyre, without internet or digital television to distract us from the empty charade of our lives.

Mwahaha. It was bloody brilliant. Self-catering rules! The cabins are at the foot of Ben Ledi which is in the Loch Lomond & Trossachs National Park, to which people in Scotland will say "duh" and the rest of the world will say "que?", so I don't know why I bombard you with all the details.

Anyway, our digs were approximately twice the size of our flat and looked like this:

And here is a nice view of Ben Ledi from the window. "Ben" is Scotch for "Mountain". Hehe :P Now everybody marvel at how my bike Valentino and Gareth's (unnamed) bike sit nicely OUTSIDE and not in the bloody hallway for us to trip over 27 times a day. That was possibly the highlight of the week for me.

The above was one of the rare moments you could actually see Ben Ledi. Being Scotland and all it was obscured by rain and fog 95% of the time. But the good thing about the rain is eventually the sun comes out and everything is calm and still for lovely reflective moments like this:

So what did we do all week? Lots of walking, lots of writing, lots of eating. Gareth climbed some hills and we went on some bike rides.

There were moments when I just wanted to bloody cry from the sheer joy of being alive. Until now I've only been on the boring cycle path near our flat, but this time there were lochs and birds and tadpoles and waterfalls and twisty paths and mountains. And a big fat slug I accidentally ran over. Sorry mate!

I know I have been harping on this point for years but it never ceases to floor me, how amazing it is to move your body. When I started exercising it was purely to lose weight, punishment for being a big fat useless freak. But now the loathing is finally gone, being active is a way of life and not a chore.

I am still rubbish at hills, in both directions. At one point I was huffing my way uphill when Gareth shouted for me to check out some fantastic rock formation. I thought rather cockily, "I can totally pedal up and look at something way over there at the same time." Alas, no. I ran off the road and fell into a ditch and very nearly rolled down into the loch.

Now I read all the time about you crazy bloggers riding your bicycles all over town so I am kinda embarrassed to write this... but yesterday I took Valentino for my first solo ride. I've had him almost a year now but I've only went for a ride when Gareth suggested it, and only when he came too coz I was scared of the bike spontaneously falling apart.

But yesterday Gareth had set off early to climb a big hill and instead of going back to sleep, I was surprised to find I was really craving a bike ride. Maybe I'm finally getting Two Wheeled FEVER!

I worried my way through about 25 scenarios in which the tyres exploded, blood flowed, limbs maimed, etc etc... but somehow I got out there on the bike at 8.30 on a Sunday morning. I was so surprised I stopped and put my camera on a fence post and took a picture to commemorate the moment. And here it is rather small, because despite all the Great Leaps Forward in self-esteem I still retain some thigh paranoia, and cycling tights certainly don't do me any favours.

And here I am on the way back to our cave. You can see why I refuse to get out of bed for less than 10 pence a day. I'm squinty, pasty and still half-asleep... but full of joie de vivre, I tells ya. And amazement that I put my helmet on the right way.

That'll do for now coz I have many blogs and emails to catch up. Looks like it's been a busy week for everyone, lots of ups and downs amongst us. Hope you're all well and hanging in there. I missed my daily fix of reading about your lives. Long live the geek :)

Made of Stars

Did any Northern Hemispherians catch the lunar eclipse on Saturday night? Gareth and I went down to the beach to watch it. It happened to be our wedding anniversary (two years!), so on paper that just about sounds like the most romantic thing ever. But it was freezing cold we had to stay inside the car and ended up with severe neck cramps from tilting and turning in our seats to try and get a good look at the bloody moon. And then a big cloud came along and hid the whole show.

What we did see was beautiful and incredibly humbling. Normally the moon looks so undefined and distant, but during the eclipse it looked properly three dimensional, like a giant golf ball that you could reach out and grab. I've always loved having a good gawk at the moon; it gives you great perspective. For all our busy lives and crazy dramas and struggles, we're all just wee specks in the universe. Isn't that comforting?

. . .

Yesterday I wanted to throw my bike into the canal. I just had a really shit ride. I've been so full-on with my exercise this week and methinks I'd got a bit over-enthusiastic. My first interval session was intense and totally fried my legs. Then I've been doing some killer weights. I felt like a change so I did Cathe's Slow and Heavy, where you do a 2-down-6-up rep count with the heaviest weights you can manage. The Legs & Shoulders was particularly gruelling, I was shakin' like a shitting dog, to use a favourite phrase of Gareth's.

By Wednesday my legs were knackered but I was scheduled for another round of intervals. I knew I wouldn't make it so thought I'd do a quick easy bike ride to let my legs recover, just the wee 7 mile (11.3 km) loop on the cycle track. Gareth came out with me, but took off into the distance for the 10 mile (16km) route that he does during the week, just a quick blast of a workout when he hasn't time for longer rides.

So. It sucked! There was an innocent-looking breeze but it felt like riding through molasses. Normally I can coast for long stretches but I was pedalling hard the whole time. At the halfway point I had to stop for a drink and a sook.

I was sooo slow on the way home. There were people WALKING faster than I was riding. And I had to stop twice more because my quads felt so bloody weak. I was even yelling at my legs at some point, "Why. Won't. You. MOVE!?".

And the final insult was when I limped over the finish line, Gareth casually wheeled past me having finished his route, the longer one with all the hills and stuff. ARRGH.

I calmed down with a cup of tea, for there will always be days like that. Something can feel ridiculously easy one day but feel like the Tour de freakin France the next. Especially when you're shiny new to this cycling palaver. So I will carry on and rest my weary legs today.

. . .

I really miss that dog. It's ridiculous to miss something you only knew for a few hours, but I do. Actually, it's more the idea of the critter that I miss.

I used to have a dog back in Australia, and I was a terrible parent. I should have rescued an aging, immobile lump from the shelter to match my own fitness level, but I fell for a hyperactive mutt that I called Harry. I'd take him for a walk and he'd pull on the lead, gasping and gagging, and I'd think, "That little bastard, why won't he heel?".

Now I can admit that of course strained at the leash - he was bored out of his tiny little skull! He wanted to run! He wanted to sniff things! But I couldn't shuffle for more than a few blocks without needing to find a park bench to recover. I still feel so guilty for being such an unfit mother. He deserved someone who could carve up the pavement and walk for miles.

I remember one time Harry escaped and ran into the church graveyard across the street. This was in 2000, when I was at my very lardiest. I chased him as fast as I could, which was extremely un-fast I can tell you now. By the time I got there he was pinging between the headstones, nose to the ground. I did not have the physical ability to run after him, so I called his name. But he ignored me. Instead he sauntered over to a headstone, where a family of mourners were placing flowers, and PEED ALL OVER IT. I didn't know which was worse; the shame of him pissing on the grave or my complete inability to do anything about it.

I found a new home for Harry not long before we moved to Scotland and even though I was much fitter by then, I was so glad to see his new Mum was very fit and active. I still wish I could call up that hound and apologise for those couple of years when I was so rubbish for him. I just know if I had a dog now, I could do so much better! I could do things right! I'd love to have a four-legged excuse to go outside. We could walk for hours and throw sticks and I could crash tackle it before it had to the chance to lift a leg in an inappropriate place. Someday, someday.

C'est Harry!

 

Downhill XTREME!

We're almost one-sixth of the way through 2007 so it's high time I checked in on some of my goals for the year.

7. Learn to ride my bike down a hill!!!

Ooh, three exclamation marks. You know that means business.

I finally got back on Valentino on Tuesday. He'd been gathering cobwebs for six months or so due to knee-hab and crappy weather.

I did my usual I don't wanna whinging as we got ready to go out. Why does cycling involve so much bloody gear? The tiny shorts with the padded crotch, the leggings, the top, the lurid jacket, the dinky skullcap so my ears don't freeze off, the helmet, the gloves. When I was a kid, all you needed was bare feet, shorts n t-shirt and the spirit of youth!

Out on the street, I was still too chicken to ride on the Big Road down to the cycle track, so I pedaled timidly and illegally on the footpath. I felt so much more comfortable on the bike than before, but I still don't have the skills to release the handlebar death-grip in order to make a hand signal!

Once on the path it felt brilliant straight away. My legs (and knee) were so much stronger. The breeze was icy and my fingers were numb but it was great to be outside, dodging horse shit and twigs and trying to remember what all the levers do. We went a leisurely 3.5 miles before I had to stop to dig out a wedgie. Stupid tiny bike shorts.

I was all set to turn around and head for home when Gareth pointed to a quiet country road leading off the path.

"Fancy riding down the hill?" he asked.

"No!"

"But what about your New Year's Resolution? You said you wanted to go down hills!"

"Yeah but. Isn't it enough that I came out at all? I mean, that's excellent progress."

"Nup. Come on. It's only a wee hill."

"It's HUGE! And there could be a car."

"There's been two cars on this road in the past month!"

"With my luck, I'll get mowed down!"

"C'mon!"

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!"

The top of the hill looked too steep so I kinda half-dismounted and shuffled a few metres down to a less scary starting point. I pushed off and... wheeeeeeee!

Okay. I braked the whole way down.

And then I couldn't bloody get back up the hill! I had forgotten how to work the gears!

"Which one makes it easier to pedal!?" I screamed to Gareth. "Left or right!?". In the end I had to push the bike up the hill.

"Just great," I said, "I have issues going down AND up hills! Right. Let's go home."

"Home?" said Gareth. "Aren't you going to give it another go?"

"No way! That's enough for one day."

"Awww! One more go?"

"NOOOOUUUUEEE!" Why is it the more juvenile I behave, the more vowels I pack in to a word?

"NOOOOUUUUUEE!" Gareth mimicked in his increasingly convincing Australian accent. "What about your resolution?"

"That was just an idle promise, you pushy bastard."

He's really not pushy at all; I think that's what makes me so cranky. If he was being a real bully I could have just told him to bugger off. But when he is being so patient and encouraging, well.

You know what else was so bloody infuriating? Realising that I was experiencing a genuine (albeit irrational) fear. And I couldn't use my fat to avoid it anymore. I have lost my all-purpose excuse.

Before I would never have even bought a bike in the first place because I'd have said, "I can't, I'm too fat!". But now if don't want to do something, it's because I'm scared or lazy or afraid of failing or looking stupid. It's no doubt been like that all along, but the fat was an excellent excuse. It was such an obvious, visible physical barrier; whereas to just admit to myself that I was scared of a gently undulating slope? It's confronting and bloody embarrassing. I've known for years I can no longer play the I'm Too Fat card, but every now and then I miss it.

"Alright then," I hissed. "I'll do it."

"Woohoo!" said Gareth. "See if you can get halfway down before you put on the brakes!"

I have to admit the second time was almost enjoyable. It was bloody fast but I didn't brake until 3/4 down. I almost crapped myself when a car came along but I managed to pull over in time without falling into the ditch. And I managed to pedal 3/4 back up the hill, huffing and cursing, until I totally ran out of gears! My legs circled madly going nowhere, like a cartoon character going over a cliff.

So obviously I have much to learn. But I had fun and felt quite at home on the bike. I was really chuffed when Gareth told me later I looked really natural and comfortable on the bike, as opposed to my previous grim expression and stiff limbs. Woohoo!

I took a picture of The Hill on the cameraphone and couldn't believe how pathetic it looked like on the screen! The perspective is distorted or something. But I SWEAR, it's steeper than it looks. It's really scary! Honest. Yeah.