Run Forrest Run …

In an attempt to get any semblance of fitness/good health I decided to join Adventure Boot Camp last year.

I had been lamenting my rather large wobbly bits for some time.  It was only made worse by Georgia constantly telling me that she “loved her big fat mommy..!”  I was pondering the rather state of affairs while driving home, and then a little person handed me an ABC pamphlet at our set of robots.

I never take pamphlets and I never leave my window open, so somehow this hander-out-of-pamphlets managed to evade my ignoring her and my security measures to keep the outside world well … outside.

I gazed at the orange and black pamphlet and  took this as a sign from the universe.  I promptly signed up the next day on-line, it was pretty easy, not so painful and very efficient.

There is nothing quite like signing up for an exercise program, you immediately feel fit and better – you almost don’t need to go to the classes.  Well that has been my experience with both Health and Racquet/Planet Fitness.  Sign up, pay the money and then never go, but strangely feel more healthy some how by just having the card in your wallet.

When I decide to do something the first thing I need to do is go shopping.  So I bought some weights, a yoga mat, and some really nice pants – a little tight all over – you know the camel-toe variety.  But it is Adventure Boot Camp, so let’s live a little.

I realized that in the warm up stage that I had under-estimated how unfit I was.  I was exhausted and mumbling uncontrollably and that was just in the warm up leg of the event.   I was breastfeeding at the time, and my breasts were responding to my crying.  So I had tight pants and wet circles on my breasts …  it was all a bit disconcerting.

Any the way, it turned out that ABC was really good.  The first two weeks required me to seek assistance when squatting on the toilet as I was unable to sit or stand unaided, but after that things did start to look up or at least less like I would need a daily suppository for the muscle pain.

It is a great 60 minutes. You do more than you thought you were able to, learn to swear like a sailor under your breath and insult the instructors mother without any guilt or remorse.

I am not a happy clappy person, so I tended to not get all “yay, whoop-whoop” about the whole thing – I like to suffer in silence.  So even though the instructor was really high-end happy, I think she soon realized that she need not try to sell that shit to me, because I wasn’t buying!

I did three Adventure Boot Camps, and though each one was “moer” hard –usually in the first week I stand there and wonder what the hell am I doing, there is a bag of Chuckles and a box of wine that needs my company more than this crap.  But I endured and was able to see drastic fitness level improvements.  I had bugger-all weight loss, but the pasta and wine gorging might be to blame.

At the last boot camp I realized – more than usual – that I run like a wounded buffalo who is slightly blind in the right eye.

I am really heavy, and really thump when I hit the ground.  I throw my weight from side to side, which does not assist me when I am trying to propel myself forwards.

I also breath like I should be on life support.   This would all be deemed as normal in my world, but when a girl who weighs 50 kilograms comes sweeping past me and her body is aerodynamically designed and she seems to glide over the tar, it really takes all of me not to put my foot out and trip her up!

After one more demeaning class I spoke to the instructor and indicated that my inability to run was really the sole reason for all the problems in my life.  She listened attentively, and made all the right sounds and suggested I join Walk/Run for Life.

My instructor is great.  But she is such a bubbly happy people person, that she does not quite recognize others who do not have good people skills.  The fact that she had paired us off in groups earlier in the class and I had screamed at my “partner” and used some unsavoury tones when referring to her brain capacity to count correctly might have been the first clue that I should work alone and maybe introducing me to another group might not be the thing.

I tried to remind her of this fact without bursting her bubble of happiness and peace to all. Irini gave it some thought and put me in touch with a coach/trainer.

So me and my new BFF got together two weeks ago for a little run.  We walked for quite a long time and then ran for three minutes.  Without using the cliché of  ”I thought I was going to die…” which is so often over-used, but not in this case.  I really thought I was going to die.  I could barely breath and it was just awful.

At that point I thought well that proves that maybe I should take up ping-pong or another endevour but this running thing is clearly not for me.

My runner guys said something very profound: “I have met many people who thought they could not run, but I have never met someone who can’t run!”

My tah-dah moment right there.

My upbeat coach/trainer guy showed me a few easy steps and suddenly I could breath while running – hell I even held a conversation – I generally uttered short sentences with few syllables, but it was more than I had ever achieved before.

Last night we ran 3 sets of 5 minutes each. I was fine, I could breath. I even looked up and around while doing it – I have never done that before.  My calves felt like they were seizing and I was going to fall to the pavement flaying, but other than that it was really good – even when he said,”okay stop” I thought wow, I feel better than I thought.

I feel such a sense of achievement … I wanted to scream … I am running , I am running!!

But then I realized that no one really cared, and no one else was going to be impressed that I had just for 5 minutes (times three sessions) without passing out.

I can’t remember the last time I felt so chuffed with myself.  This is huge for me.  When I close my eyes and go to sleep at night I see myself running … how bizarre is that.

More bizarrely I bought a Runner’s World Magazine this morning – it is right under the large Bar One I bought as a reward for running.  I will read it as soon as I finish my chocolate.

Of motivation and mantras….

I really do not enjoy going to Adventure Boot Camp.  I really can’t even fake interest – Kennith can vouch for that.

But I drag myself literally kicking and whining to boot camp at least three times a week. Okay, sometimes only twice.

I was busy driving there last night and wondered to myself how I could explain to anyone how I – the most unmotivated person with regards to exercise - stays motivated enough to go to ABC, when I really do not enjoy it.  Then it came to me – like a little high pitched voice out of the darkness.

Georgia!

It happened like this.

I am lying semi-asleep on my left side, with the duvet sort of pulled haphazardly over my body.  I have a nightshirt on that has ridden up a bit – as does tend to happen as one sleeps.  I am not trying to start a cheap sex blog here, I am merely trying to assist you to picture the scene from the safety of your home.

So there I am lying, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep.  I know the kids are moving around the house.  I really do not know why people think there is a pitter-patter of little feet in a house with kids, it is a more like the sound of a stampede 0f wildebeest.  Any-the-how, I digress.

So there I lie, with just the right amount of saliva dribbling out of the corner of my mouth.  <Too much and it wets the pillow and wakes you up, just enough moistens your lips so they do not go all dry and crispy when you first yawn.>

I hear the distinct whisper of Georgia standing behind me.

Georgia: “Hello mommy” <I can hear her smiling – she is such a happy little thing.>

Me – substituting until real mommy arrives: “Hello my love ….”

Georgia: “Are you sleeping mommy?”

Me: “Not so much sweetie…”

Georgia: “Mommy when I am big, will I be as big as you?”

Me: “errr, I think so sweetie, you are already such a big girl …… please go and watch tv with your brother like a big girl.”

Georgia: ” Mommy…”

Me: “Yes Georgia bear….”

Georgia: “When I am big, will I have a big bum like you?”

And  now I have a mantra forAdventure Boot Camp …

Of Hikes and Tears ….

I apologise for no new posts in the last week.

I dragged myself kicking and screaming on a 5 day hike – the result of drinking and decision-making covered earlier.

The hike offered wonderful views, aching legs, more sweat than I knew my pores could excrete, and many moments where I wanted to lie on the ground and sob like a baby.

Just got home, trying to get my arse into gear, and will blog in the next few days.

Tonight we have a dozen people coming over for dinner – tomorrow I am alone with kids and scared shitless.  Sunday Kennith is off to do the Argus – I would be happier if he just read the Argus.  I’m thinking that I am going to be wishing for the peace of the hike quite soon.

Drinking and Decision Making ……

We have friends who like to hike and attempt to be/get fit.

Usually these plans are concocted at about 11pm after copious amounts of wine. Suddenly everyone has a plan of how we are going to get fit and what adventure we are going to attempt next, and starts brain storming wild ideas that involve lycra and sweat.

Good sense (and experience in these matters) tell me that when I wake up the next morning, we really did not mean what we said the night before. We are quite happy to spend our days lying around and mimicing a sloth.

Recently while tucking into a particular delicious bottle of Haute Cabriére Chardonnay Pinot Noir, Joyce says: “We really need to get fit this year….”

To the chorus of “Yes, yes, yes, we must…” slurp of wine, spill a little on the table, throw some Caribbean Onion & Balsamic Vinegar Lay chips into your mouth.

“Yes, yes, we must, we must.” Lots of head nodding – even some wild gesturing was added.

Joyce says: “I have an idea – let’s do a hike.”

“Yes, yes, we must, it will be so cool..” more wine slurping, a little less spillage, a few Chuckles in mouth – some get in the mouth, some miss and roll across the table.

“Yes, we must do something about this getting fit thing.” Cheering all around.

Joyce says: “I think we should do the Whale Trail!”

“The Whale Trail – what a fabulous idea – I hear it is really pretty.” A little more wine, chips are finished, trying to dig the last Chuckles out of the red bag.

Joyce says: “We can even slack pack!”

“Slack pack!! That is my way of hiking, excellent I will have someone to carry my wine, that sounds fabulous.” Chuckles are finished.  Trying to suss out how much wine I can get out of the bottle before I need to impose on my host to offer me another bottle of this nectar of the gods.

Joyce says – a little too enthusiastically:  “ I am going to find out – who is in if we can go – come on who is in?”

Everyone is excited, and saying yes – people are putting their hands up and congratulating each other for being so keen.  There is more pouring of wine, another bottle is brought and it is all happy fellows.

Next morning we receive an email from Joyce. She has actually found out about the Whale Trail and now appears to be on a first name basis with Luleka from the Cape Nature Office.

Joyce then proceeds to book, and heckles us – mercilessly – to pay and then it just starts to get all surreal.

I put it out of my mind – a bit like the Soccer World Cup, you know it is happening, but really it is so far away that you don’t really take stock of it.

Last time (circumstances were similar) they organized the-hike-of-death affectionately called the Otter Trail. I managed to fall pregnant on the eve of departure.  I am sure it was my body’s natural defense mechanism to get out of poo’ing in a long drop. So I managed to get out of that one, and pleaded pregnancy. Listen there are few times one can play that card, and I felt that this was the time.

Unfortunately this time, I am all out of ideas – I even took a pregnancy test last Sunday, just in case – hike starts Saturday!!