gym

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Workout

Panting and puffing I’m feeling the burn
Even though I’ve done only a minute
This machine is the work of the devil I’m sure
Oh god, I think I might vomit

I’m treading the mill to try and get fit
But I think this thing’s going to kill me
My bosom is heaving I’m sweating like mad
All this jiggling…. It’s making me wee… (just a little)

Increasing the incline and upping the speed
My little legs pumping like crazy
I feel the weight lifting I’m floating on air
Oohhh… everything’s going quite hazy

Finally, slowly, it grinds to a halt
I’ve done ten whole minutes… can’t talk
Although I’m all wobbly I’m feeling quite chuffed
Maybe one day I’ll jog, not just walk

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My world this Wednesday

  • The campaign for the General Election has officially started in England this week. You could say election fever has gripped the nation, but it’s the sort of fever that makes you want to tuck up in bed with the covers over your head.  The campaign so far (and I’m sure it will continue thus) seems to be a succession of party leaders sniping and making snide remarks about each other.  No one in the country has a clue who will come out on top, and it certainly looks like it’s going to be another hung parliament.  I’m just praying that the disgraceful UKIP don’t get a look-in on any coalition.
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  • Yesterday,I joined the gym. No, I didn’t think I would either, but apart from their beautiful pool being just soooo inviting, I’ve been feeling generally blobby and lacking in energy, which I put down to being just a teeny bit heavier than I was this time last year. I keep reminding myself that I’m carrying the equivalent of several bags of sugar around with me all the time, and that’s why I’m feeling tired.
    I’m taking my first class today, Yogalates, which is the evil son of Yoga and Pilates.  I’m a little nervous – will all the others be young and fit? Will it be a bit too punishing for me? Will I make an absolute berk of myself (I usually do…should be used to it by now)?  I expect I’ll live through it either way, and I’m looking forward to a good swim and perhaps, a relaxing steam, afterwards.
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  • I’ve been trying to tidy up the garden, but it’s so bloomin’ windy, it blows my eyes to the back of my head every time I venture out. It’s been like this for days now.  At the moment the sun is out and through the window it looks quite tempting, but having just got back from walking the dog, I know that that fierce wind bites right through to your bones. Nope, I’m just going to stay here in the warm and look through the window at all the new weeds popping up and thumbing their noses at me.
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  • Lunching with a friend tomorrow. We are ‘ladies wot lunch’.  We don’t see each other often, but when we do we like to catch up over a glass of wine and some yummy food.  This is one of the great pleasures of retirement!  I can’t eat too much though, as I have my regular yoga class in the afternoon.  This is another reason I would like to lose a couple of inches from my waist…a spare tyre does get in the way of a good deep forward bend a bit!
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  • Easter weekend is coming up. The weekend of chocolate.  I remember when I was little, on Easter Sunday we used to get chocolate eggs in pretty boxes, or wrapped in fancy cellophane.  Now all the eggs seem to come with some chocolate bar or other, in boxes that are basically, just a bit more garish advertising.

    Of course these days chocolate is the only thing that springs to mind for many people when Easter is mentioned.  We should however, spare a thought to it’s origins.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not religious at all, and don’t believe in all that stuff, but it doesn’t hurt to be a little generous to those who do now and again.  At the very least we should take the opportunity to remind ourselves that such barbarism as crucifixion should not be allowed to take place anywhere in the world here in the 21st Century.  As I was, I am sure you will be shocked, though not surprised, when you hear that yes,some terrorists groups still find it acceptable retribution. You may guess who. Whoever wins that General Election, we must hope that, together with all the other world leaders, they intensify their efforts to stamp this out. Soon.

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To Gym or not to Gym

You may remember that for several months I followed the 5:2 diet. It worked for me.  Losing over a stone (over 6 kg) I felt better about myself, had more energy, clearer skin, smaller waist. It wasn’t only the diet of course, I was walking three or four miles at a time and swimming regularly. Without so many bulges to manoeuver, my yoga practice improved no end. I slept better, and apparently my snoring stopped (I still dispute this – I don’t snore, I just breath a bit heavily). I flounced about with more confidence. It was great.

Until we went on holiday.

Oh yes, the bikini came out.  I know bikini’s on a sixty odd year old woman is unseemly, but believe me, this sixty something rocked it. No bingo wings to worry about when wearing skimpy cotton summer frocks. Swanning about in sarongs. Eating.

Oh yeah, the eating. We were in India. I love Indian food. What can I say?

It wouldn’t have been so bad, if we hadn’t spent the time we weren’t eating lying about in the sun, relaxing, chillin’, exerting no energy whatsoever. At all.  Consequently the pounds piled on.

Of course, when we got home my tubbier tanned body wasn’t up to doing much exercise.  I found excuses.  I couldn’t do so much walking because I’ve been suffering with plantar faciitis (still am, but getting better with the help of steroid injections), I’d got fed up with the weekly battle for parking, and the grim facilities of the local leisure centre – not quite the same as the infinity pool in Kerala. Even yoga got to be a bit more of an effort.

Then it was the food fest of Christmas.

Things have been going downhill ever since. I’ve put the weight back on. Energy levels are low to non-existent.  I’m not sleeping so well. The baggy belly is back.

So…. I’m tentatively back on the 5:2, but I still can’t walk the long distances I could, and I still don’t care for swimming at the leisure centre. So I’ve been considering joining the local gym.

There are one or two problems with this option though.

  • It costs money – lots of money
  • Other people, fit people, will be there
  • It takes a biggish time commitment to be worth joining
  • You have to commit for a whole year, yes, a WHOLE YEAR, and pay up front

I used to belong to a gym, when the kids were at school. It didn’t have a pool, but I’d go and use the equipment a couple of times a week, doing less and less on the murderous machines that I didn’t like, and more and more on the things you can sit down on.  I actually quite enjoyed it, but at the time I didn’t need to lose weight, I was more focussed on toning up a bit (this was before my yoga days).

The gym I’m thinking of now, is swish, like, really swish. It has a beautiful pool, sauna, steam rooms, Jacuzzi, fitness suites, lots of classes…oh and a café so that you can have a nice hot chocolate with marshmallows after your workout. It is so very tempting…

But…

Whilst a big chunk of me wants to join, believing it is my key to becoming svelte and energetic again, there is a growing niggle that I shouldn’t need to join a gym to keep fit.  I should be able to run about in the fresh air, garden more, yoga more, dance more…eat less.  This little voice keeps telling me that I am very privileged to be able to afford to eat more than I need to keep me going each day. I should be thankful that I am healthy if chubby, rather than skinny and sickly, and that I can afford to even contemplate joining an exorbitantly overpriced gym full of narcissists.  It is whispering that I should be content with who I am, be less vain, embrace old age with it’s niggly aches and pains and penchant for daytime naps.  Enjoy the fact that a bit of padding fills out the wrinkles. After all, I’m not actually overweight for my build, by BMI standards, I am apparently at a healthy weight for my height and age.

So I am torn. I know I would feel better about myself if I was fitter, slimmer, but I’m not sure I can do it on my own, or even whether I should want to.

Oh, but how I would love to wallow in that fancy Jacuzzi a couple of times a week… oops, sorry, I mean swim, and run, and lift, and stretch, and…

ooh now I’ve thought about it, I need a hot chocolate and a lay down!