Le weekend is over again.  How does that happen?

It went well: socially fun, foodly balanced, exercisedly active.  And, even though I picked Holland from the beginning, the right team won the World Cup.

The foodly balanced social time was a huge bonus for me.  I did that classic WW thing and looked at the menu online before I went, made my choices BEFORE the wine was poured, and stuck to them – alway crucial, that one.

The conversation was great, alcohol was limited in the best way, and there were jugs of water on the table (still not that usual in the UK).  It was a truly lovely evening.  Must learn to repeat that behaviour……….

Yesterday friends phoned to go for a quick walk.  The husband’s spine is in a bad way so it had to be something fairly sedate.  Luckily we live in the land of urban seaside walks so a dash (slow dash) around a marine lake did the trick – followed by half pint at the pub.  One just about paid for the other but it was worth getting away from the work sitting on my dining room table. (Note – put office back into functional position this week.)

Exercise?  I managed to run 2.1 miles without stopping.  Well, except for a quick 20ft walk to catch breath at the top of a hill but I’ve decided to ignore that.  I didn’t get any faster over the whole 3 miles than when I alternate running and walking, so I guess that jog was pretty slow, but it felt like I was finally getting somewhere with my lungs.

So that’s my question:

What is it that makes you (as in me) stop exercising at a given point? I’ve tried to work it out as I come to the place where I HAVE TO stop running.

• Is it the lungs?
• Is it the heart?
• Is it the legs?

The husband says it’s the brain.   I have to say, ever since he said that, I’ve been pushing myself that little bit harder and getting further and further before I stop so maybe he’s right.

I’ve also been making plans for when I’m away for 6 weeks this summer.  I can tell you from here that I probably won’t be a dedicated with the running.  Is that self-defeating?  Probably.

HOLD IT!  I was going to excuse myself from running on the grounds that running looks weird in the little rural village where I will spend the summer.  Really?  And how “weird” will it be to come back to the UK in September and not be able to run a mile?  How much do I want what I say I want?  Enough to risk looking a little strange to some locals who just happen to think that running when there’s no one chasing is a futile activity?

Sigh.  Yes.  And, of course, I’ve got the magic hat & sunglass disguise so they’ll never know who it is anyway.  Seriously, I run past people I know all the time and they never notice.  Walking, they tend to see me – I must be faster than I thought.

Well that little motivational self-talk wasn’t what I was expecting….now on with the week.

Yesterday I ended up with a digestive complaint that doesn’t need to be described here. Ick. I haven’t had anything like that for years.  So I stayed in, ate sparingly, and went to bed early.

And what do you know, I feel fine today.

It was tempting to spend a little more time curled up on the couch but I decided to try to be as disciplined about exercise as I have been with food.  Not easy.  Not natural. Not ever accomplished before!  But I’m trying.

Here’s the plan:

Every week I aim to walk/run 1 x 2 miles, 1 x 3 miles, 1 x 4 miles and 1 x 5 miles.  I don’t care about the order or the specific day but I’d like to get to the end of each week having covered 14 miles at a good pace.

Walks with friends and loved ones are just icing on the cake but not replacements for the above.

Can I just recap for a moment?

In just over 2 weeks:

• I’ve decided what number I want to see on the scale.
• I’ve set a date for that goal.
• I’ve planned my weekly eating.
• I’ve set a weekly exercise target.

This is not me.  This is not anyone I have ever been.  I promise that I will never ever ever become smug in this endeavour.  Or assume that I’ve actually arrived.  Or assume that I will be this disciplined forever and always.  Or be confident that I will never be fat again.  Never ever ever.

But I’m going to take advantage of this stranger presently living my life and see if I can’t embed a couple more good habits.

Reading about other people’s running is like reading about their computer problems: makes you want to stick a pencil in your eye just to relieve the boredom.

However, I’m at that lovely early stage in my relationship with this particular form of exercise where I’m still slightly in love. I find myself thinking about running with something vaguely resembling hunger. I can lie awake at night and imagine the feeling of general well-being that moving brings.

Then, in the morning, I put on the gear, plug in the ipod and (crucially) hide behind the baseball cap and sunglasses, and head out the door.  Within 2 minutes the fantasy run disappears and it just hurts.

Yesterday I decided to run rather than walk out the door and see how far I could go before I needed a break.  I managed almost a mile then walked a bit then picked it up again then walked a lot, managing only to run a minute or so at a time. The overall result was 3 miles in 35 minutes.

Here’s my question:  If I can cover 3 miles alternating running and walking, why can’t I just cover it all at a slow steady jog of 5 mph?

It’s a mystery.  Maybe my natural running pace is too fast for my current level of fitness.  I guess I don’t really know what it feels like to run 5 mph. Yesterday I covered that first mile at 6.5 mph – will have to work on that.

Anyway – while I was loping (let’s call it that for the sake of broadening vocabulary and not because it’s an accurate description of my form) – while I was loping along I started setting fitness goals.  I could envision doing this every day.  I would gradually increase the running and decrease the walking.  I would be running my whole 5 mile route by September.

Then I remembered reality.  As soon as I start setting those kind of goals, I quit.  As soon as I go through my little pocket calendar and project how much weight I will lose by my birthday, the whole plan falls apart.  As soon as I work out how much money I can save by Christmas, the budget flies out the window.  As soon as I decide to run a 10k race, I will give up running.

I love the idea of planning and setting goals but the reality just doesn’t agree with me.

Insight! That kind of goal setting requires a certain steadiness that I don’t possess.  I harbour a fantasy that I will one day be a measured human being but the fact is that I’m more at home with a Feast or Famine lifestyle.  Maybe Peaks and Troughs is a better description.  It’s not actually All or Nothing – more that I love a rhythm of life which is sometimes full and buzzing with activity and sometimes calm and pretty much devoid of responsibility.  Most people seem to get through life at a steady jog but I much prefer to alternate sprinting with resting.

Ha! Believe it or not, I started writing that last sentence with no idea that there was a connection between my approach to running and my approach to life. Interesting what comes out while blabbing.  Well well well.

I don’t have a lot of time but wanted to report back on my fitness assessment.

I went with my lovely daughter who feels pretty much recovered from several years of chronic fatigue syndrome but hasn’t been able to exercise in all that time.  Because she’s been worried about putting on weight and not eating right, I thought momentarily about signing her up for Weight Watchers – but really only momentarily.  I thought about all the money I’d paid into the WW coffers over the years and about how much better it would have been if I’d spent that money getting in shape and learning about nutrition.  So that’s my 21st birthday present to her – 3 months of weekly visits to a personal trainer.

We met with our lovely new trainer, Svetlana, to go through the Polar BodyAge fitness test.

I was pleasantly surprised by how chilled out and unselfconscious we were about our less than perfect bodies.  I got the feeling that Svetlana mostly meets women who hate their flaws and aren’t happy even with the good bits.  I think she was a little surprised by how matter of fact we are about our own and each other’s bodies.  It seems that years of watching Trinny and Susannah together have made us very blunt about such things – in a loving and (we think) funny way – but it must seem a bit strange to an outsider.

So here’s how it panned out for me:

Nutrition was good though I was describing my normal diet at home with the husband rather than what I’ve actually been doing to myself for the past week. (yes, “doing to myself” is the best description I can find.)

Cardiovascular, strength and flexibility were all fair or average – so no surprise there and a pleasant change from “poor” when I did an assessment eight years ago.

The big surprise was my body composition which, using skinfold measurements, was only 23.5% fat.   I guess  my skinny limbs balanced out my fat tummy because the belly definitely needs shrinking but there are no bingo wings in sight.

And the final pleasant surprise is that my body-age is two years less than my real age.  I turn 49 next week but my body is only 47.  And, apparently, my goal for the next few months is to get it down another 12 years.  (oh, really?)  So I will be 35 by summer.

The daughter had good news too: she’s officially a beautiful young woman who just needs to do a bit more exercise, tone up her gorgeous curves and eat breakfast – not nearly as de-conditioned as we thought she might be.

I have a session next week to plan out my exercise routine for the coming months and I’m looking forward to it more than I thought I would.

This afternoon I went for a run rather than blog because:

• the sun peaked through the clouds
• I had journalled to point that I realised there was nothing left for a glass of wine
• I actually felt like exercise. (Please don’t get excited – this doesn’t happen very often)
• Or the right planets aligned.

Because I did a long (for me) 4.5 miles yesterday, I decided that a quick 2 miles would be enough today.  I trotted off out the front door with 2 goals for this particular jaunt:

• To do the 12 minute fitness test.  I only just figured out yesterday that my ipod has a stopwatch so I thought I’d give it a go.  I managed (according to gmaps pedometer) to cover 1.84 km (1840 metres) in 12 minutes which puts me at the top end of “average” for my age.  I’m happy with that.  If I can cover just another 60 meters, I’ll be at the bottom of “above average”.  That’s a reasonable  short-term goal, I think.

• To run as far as I felt I could – then keep running to the next lamppost or other suitable landmark. It hurt but I did it whether I’d been running for 5 minutes or 1 minute.  One day, I’d like to run for a whole 30 minutes without needing to walk but for now I just want to learn how to push myself when I’m working out.  I’m a wimpy exerciser and find it hard to go that bit further or faster at the gym but somehow it was easier when there was something physical to aim for.

I used to be too self-conscious to run on my own outside but I’ve discovered a wonderful secret.  Ready?…….wearing a baseball cap.  Because no one will recognise me wearing a baseball cap, right?

Don’t answer that.  It’s helping so I’m going to keep doing it. Sunglasses make it even better. Plug in the ipod and it’s like a full-on cloak of invisibility.   

That’s what life has felt like this week.

I’ve said my good-byes and performed the last minute motherly and daughterly duties,
I’ve travelled across the world to my other (real?) home,
and I’ve hit the ground running through a jet-lagged fog to get ready for a weekend working away.

And all that time I’ve been thinking, “I’ll start thinking about my eating and fitness next week.”

I know that’s diet mentality but I can’t fight it in this blur of sleep deprived busy-ness.

I want to erase the above write something more upbeat and proactive, but I know without a doubt that this is a weekend for going easy on myself and letting me get caught up with myself.

On a positive note we have eaten vast quantities of vegetables – why oh why are the vegetables on this tiny island so superior to their Canadian cousins? Even the huge wintry carrots are sweet and juicy. And the broccoli makes you want to eat more of it.

So now I’m looking forward to doing a proper grocery shop on Monday and getting ready to be on my own for another couple of weeks as the husband jets off to exotic places.  I’m already planning the soups and evening meals: Moroccan chickpeas and mushrooms served on roasted butternut squash.  I might add a bit of chicken.

And I’m looking forward to dropping a few more pounds.  That’s actually quite a huge statement because it means that I’m planning to be lighter than I’ve been for many years.  To go along with this, I’m hoping to finally finally get to grips with seeing myself accurately.  I want to develop objective eyes for looking in mirrors.  Is that asking too much?

And rowing. I fantasise about rowing. And I’m looking forward to improving my 4 mile walk/jog  time and adding a mile or two.  (Aside: On that note, here’s an article from last weekend’s Times: 20 Fitness Myths Debunked)

So that’s what’s running through my mind as I approach the starting line…….I’m looking forward to what comes next.

What is it that makes us want to rationalize everything?  I’ve been somewhat lax about exercising lately – nothing major, but this past week only walked 3 times instead of 5 or 6.  Anyway, I realized that I have been putting off the treadmill because I’m “too busy with the holidays.”  What a crock!  I’m busy, but no more so than any other time of the year.  And it’s what?  30-45 minutes?  Sometimes I just want to slap myself up the side of the head and say “DO IT!”  But I don’t – I just make excuses.

And on another note, I’m heading up north for Christmas and will be really (really!) watching my food intake while I’m there.  But it’s always tough for me, and I’ve never been truly successful before at doing it when I visit my daughter.  It’s strange because they never have any processed foods–it’s all natural stuff like whole wheat bread, butter, cheeses, etc.  Just the sort of foods I can binge on happily.  So that’s the question of the month–can I eat moderately when there’s an abundance of choices?

Speaking of binging, there was an interesting article in the LA Times recently on whether it should be classified as a psychiatric disorder. Food for thought….

Thinking about the diet/non-diet thing again and how exercise reflects my frame of mind.

When I have my diet head on, I exercise to eat.  I see my hour on the treadmill as earning calories.  I think that attitude comes largely from Weight Watchers which does encourage exercise as “earning Points”.

But my non-diet head strives to eat to live and I want exercise to simply be part of living.  So yesterday, before I went to the gym, I ate a tablespoon of peanut butter on a ryvita and drank a small glass of milk.  Of course, I barely burnt off enough calories to cover that, but I felt great on the treadmill.

Even writing this, I’m wondering if the difference is so subtle that it doesn’t matter.  As long as you exercise, why fuss about the reason?

But I’ve always failed at maintaining weight loss because of the on-diet/off-diet attitude and exercise gets tangled up in it and disappears when I’m “off”.  So maybe I need to be strict with myself for a while and only eat to exercise because that’s the attitude I want to take with me for the rest of my life. I want to eat to fuel my body and enjoy social times without ignoring that.  I don’t want to exercise like mad because I’ve got a dinner coming up where I might want to stuff my face.

What do you think?  Do you eat to move or move to eat?

I love a good workout.

I can happily sit on the sofa for a week.

These are two truths that make it complicated to be me.  Or maybe everyone is like this.

I have always been sporty with or without extra weight.  I suppose that innate enjoyment of exercise is why I’ve never had more than thirty pounds to lose.  The amount of exercise I’ve maintained has ranged from almost nothing to obsessive levels.

• wandering around the house in search of food or the tv remote
• walking for everyday life – errands and shopping
• playing orgainsed team sports
• walking for fitness
• walk/jogging
• going to the gym once or twice per week
• going to the gym four or five times per week
• running miles and miles in order to burn calories

Can you sense the shift from depressed to sane to compulsive? I have a genuine fear of both extremes.

I read this quote today over on the Paul Plakas site:

Melissa Joulwan once wrote: “An athlete is someone who takes joy in movement. Who knows they feel better after their workout than they did before. They enjoy the first trickle of sweat because they know that the reward for stretching won’t be too far behind. It’s also someone that knows you don’t have to be on an organized sports team to be strong, to have enthusiasm, or to be a winner.”
There is absolutely no mention in the previous quote of a top-10 finish or a personal-record time achieved. No relevance to personal performance relative to others.

I relate to that and I love that little bit at the end.  It helps me crave moving my body without fearing the euphoria that always leads to a crash.  I want to find moderation and that sheer pleasure of feeling my heart and lungs working hard.  I don’t want the kind of exercise that traps me into a routine that gets ever more demanding, just to keep getting better and better results. Instead, I want “balanced life” exercise that leads to the freedom of having a healthy and leaner body.

So today is another “first day”.  Better get moving.

I go through phases of liking the gym and resenting the time and money that it demands.  I’m in the latter phase right now.

I’ve had many vague thoughts about starting routing at home with hand weights and a balance ball but have never quite got that to the reality stage.  But I think it’s time.

I’ve always been a fan of Paul Plakas from X-Weighted, a Canadian reality show and decided to see what he had to offer on his website.  Have a look at Bodcast Episode 1.  I guess I’ve got no excuses now.