The wheels on the bike...

So I have had a big week of exercise.

Monday - an hour of tennis training followed by another hour of what is aptly labelled 'cardio tennis'. Lets just say that if you miss a shot in one of the various (intense) drills, sprints and 'burpies' are the punishment. Oh deary me... Do you know what a 'burpie' is? It sounds so cute and innocent. What a &^$%& %&*%*& #$$&#*&#()*#)(*#(*&#&*(^*&$*^$*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In case you do not know what this delightful little activity is, I have defined it per the below (from the 'Urban Dictionary):

To experience a burpie,start off with feet together in a wide bent over hands on the ground position, kick your legs back behind you,(so it looks like you are going to do a push up), bring them back forward to your starting position, then stand up, jump and reach for the sky. Repeat.

Try doing that 20 times in a row with a coach yelling at you. I had so many expletives running through my mind that I think I invented some new ones. I wanted to poke my finger in his chest and explain that he did not have 10 kilo breasts that displace one's centre of gravity when repetitively hurling oneself toward the ground... Pheeewww....breathing out the tension from that memory.


Tuesday - I did a spin class last night, 15kms in 45mins. Needless to say I nearly died, truly. I almost fainted twice and had to stop and snap out of it, draw myself back from the brink of collapsing (a frightening vision of humungo girl, crashing to the floor while the resident stick figures attempted to haul her back up unsuccessfully). When I got home I spun out ('scuse the pun) again and had had a 'hypo' attack (really low blood sugar), however, an orange and a couple of jelly beans and I was fine. If by fine I mean limping around with every part of my body screaming in pain. Surprisingly though, I was okay the next day. No pain and I was feeling I dare say "good". High effort, high results I guess. However, I can't get rid of the unnatural feeling of dislike towards the spin class trainer. Hmm...


Wednesday - two hours of tennis matches. Not as intense as the previous two days, but much more technically difficult. A poor woman and her 13 year old daughter absolutely thrashed my partner and I and looks quite displease to have such disappointing opponents. Quite funny as it turned out. I spent half the time terrified that I wasn't in the right spot, or that she (the mother) was going to bark another order at me (note that I have not played doubles before and as it turns out it is quite different). But she managed to have a laugh after her daughter nearly knocked me out with a missile-like serve that went straight towards my head.

Tonight is going to be a bit of a rest. I have a tendency to get a little gung-ho about weight loss and go crazy hardcore with both my diet and exercise and then suddenly seemingly without warning fizzle into a cheeseburger/carbohydrate binge that lasts for a month. And then it's over. Lard-arse lady is back in full form...

Till next time.

Whale in the mirrors...

So after several months of tennis training once per week, last night I went back to the gym to start to increase my exercise in the lead up to the hefty 12 week program I am about to embark upon.

I thought Yoga would be a good way to start out, nice and gentle and achievable.  Ha...I must have a delusional memory. It was h a r d! Hard in the sense that I felt like a plank of wood trying to be a pretzel. So stiff!! My muscle were quivering with the strain as I internally begged myself not to sink to my knees as the 5th minute of 'downward facing dog' clicked by... The usually soothing tone of the instructors voice became a source of rage as I wondered again and again how much long I could hold out... Needless to say, the ten minute meditation did finally arrive and then it was over, my inner goddess sticking her head out and looking somewhat pleased with herself! I did feel good for having gone in the first place and managing to stick it out, however...

The downside to this entire activity was the mirrors...Mirrors, mirrors every-freakin'-where! What is more, as I entered the gym yesterday, I was walking with a woman who I thought was probably only a little bit smaller than me. This was not the case.

While twisting and convulsing into the various poses during the class, I became very aware that I was humongous! I usually try to avoid having to look straight into the mirror, but I was a little bit late and tragically ended up front and centre and was forced to endure an hour of looking at my hideous, large physique, incompetently manoeuvring at the instruction of the trainer, back lit by an endless sea of trim size 8 women and one older, slightly pervy (but still trim) man. It is so much worse than I thought! And that woman I entered the gym with who I had thought was 'only a little bit smaller' than me...well...what can I say...If by 'smaller' I meant 'minisule' and by a 'little bit' I meant 'tineey, wineey fraction', then sure, she was a little bit smaller than me. How delusional I have been. Need to find an extra large potato sack to wear next time. Would sure be less distracting!

So, onwards and upwards....note(s) to self:

1. Never be late to class at the gym.
2. Always maintain a position of furthest-to-the-back of the room.
3. Try to find a way to swallow down humiliation and shame.
4. Find some kind of float top of substantial length for yoga classes.
5. Purchase Spanks for deluding oneself and others during gym classes.

Starting out...

At the beginning of a health kick I am always astounded at my ability to consume such fresh, lovely calories and barely reach 1000 calories per day. Feeling like a controlled goddess, I mentally strut about, shoulders back, self-rightious grin on my face waving at the gorging plebs beneath me. This is until I reach day eight.....ah yes, the day of vanilla slice and sneaky one dollar cheeseburgers, because, how can it really be bad to have "just one"?? Especially when it only costs a dollar! Besides, I am a controlled goddess remember? And so the decline begins.

The problem is, I eat really well at home. Tiny portions of fantastic health food....it's 'work binging' that get me every time. Well, no more I say. I want to love exercise and be so distracted by this love that I simply forget to eat.

Hmmm... vanilla slice......time for a cuppa tea I think!