When I order coffee at a cafe it's usually an espresso. That little cup of black gold, black magic, call it what you will. If I'm feeling particularly enamoured of the idea of darkness, I'll order a double short black.
It's something that's been a treat from time to time as until recently we didn't have a coffee machine at home. We had a French press and I got rather sick of the mug with milk that was our typical morning tea.
A friend gave me a coffee machine, new old stock, 8 years old and never used. I suspect some plastic pipes inside it had perished or died, as I persevered for a few days, cleaned it, followed all the instructions and never got anything better than dark sludge out of it.
So I bit my lip, mentally apologised to the environment, and bought a wee Nespresso machine. Reader, I know I'm bad. Those pods take forever to decompose. You can't recycle them. But the bliss of popping one in, touching the button and watching an espresso materialise before my eyes, for one fifth of the cost of a cafe one! And I can have one EVERY DAY. I wouldn't walk to our local cafe every day and hand over $4.50 - my espresso was a weekend treat only.
Thankfully there are several brands of compatible pods, and the Vittoria espresso is nicely dark and deep and strong. L'Or isn't bad, either.
And my husband now makes his own flat whites for morning tea and is in heaven.
So what a tasty start to the year we've had.
Coffee cheers my spirit, in moderation is good for the body and gives my mind that little jolt to cheer it up when it doesn't feel like doing work at the computer.
Which segueways nicely into yoga. Now yoga is arguably much better for the mind, body and spirit, and I've taken that up recently. Like, last week, officially. I had been teaching myself from magazines and YouTube and websites, but I bit the bullet and joined a fitness centre that teaches yoga, pilates and barre.
I've decided I'll try and do 3 yoga classes a week, 1 pilates and 1 barre, as they are the only ones that fit in with my schedule - i.e., doing it during business hours. I have no desire to head out at 6am or fight peak hour traffic and overfull classes at 6pm when I'm getting hungry. I'm treating yoga as work - work on myself!
So far I'm loving it; I'm doing yin yoga and hatha yoga. While I do a fitness class on Fridays (bodyweight, light weights and cardio) which makes me realise just what muscles I've used, I'm getting complaints from muscles on a daily basis, but only mildly. It's all good.
I'm feeling a bit calmer - I think! The one bad thing about the yoga place is parking. It's in a shopping strip where the main car park is being redeveloped so parking is at a premium. Last Friday I was driving for 20 minutes around and around the other car park areas there desperate for a spot, almost screaming and my blood pressure going through the roof as I didn't want to be late for my class. I had allowed for 15 minutes to find a park. This rather negates all the good yoga does for my mind, body and spirit I suspect!
My neighbour put me onto the yoga centre as she has recently joined it too, so at least she'll be coming to some of the same classes and urging me to go if I'm feeling lazy or depressed and don't want to leave the house.
I've noticed another difference in my mental state - I want or NEED to do some sort of exercise every day now. Either yoga, pilates, barre or a good brisk walk. For this little sloth, that's a very good thing indeed.
And if yoga doesn't perk me up, fresh espresso will!
Showing posts with label fitness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fitness. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Friday, June 30, 2017
French Women Don't Wear Active Wear
I went to my open air resistance class this morning, rugged up against a rather chilly early winter's morning here in Oz. I had my full length black leggings on, topped with a short sleeved hot pink top, a pale blue sweatshirt and a lilac zip up fleece. It was so chilly that even in the most hectic part of the workout I only ditched the fleece. In short, I looked rather a dag, as we say over here. (Think 'slob'.)
After the class I was faced with a dilemma. I had to go to the bank and supermarket. Should I go home and change first?
Huh, you're thinking. What a snob. Just go as you are, girl, who will notice or care?
Well, I notice and I care. There is active wear and active wear. Do the full Lorna Jane or Sweaty Betty, all nicely coordinated, and you can probably get away with it. Thin, fit middle-class women do. They strut around the shopping centre with great hair, sweetly scented (you can tell they haven't been to the gym first and probably won't go ... they just dress like that) and nary a roll of fat is visible on their leggings. In winter they wear sleeveless puffa tops over their technical merino long sleeves. They have several pairs of trainers which coordinate with the accent colours in their outfits.
Active wear favours the slim. I've seen some pretty horrifying sights in leggings and skimpy gym wear and fear I'm more like them than the sleek women I see around shops in our area (which is middle-class and quite decent on the socio-economic scale). I do wear leggings, quite often in fact, but plain, non-gym ones teamed with tunic tops that cover my backside and let the best of my legs be on show. And I pair them with ballet flats or boots, not trainers. I don't own a sleeveless puffa jacket as it would make me look like an elephant.
So I felt rather ashamed of myself when I decided to hit the shops on my way home after all, bum looking big with the fleece barely covering half of it. No makeup, not even lip gloss. Hair that looked a fright after an hour's workout in a breeze.
There's a bit of me that's French. Not just in attitude, but genetically too.
You see, French women don't wear active wear outside of the gym. If they go to a gym, that is - more likely they'll go to a yoga class. I have been fortunate enough to visit France three times in the last six years and the only Parisienne I saw in a full active wear outfit was carrying a yoga mat. She had reason to be dressed as she was. Even in rural France and French towns, nobody wore active wear on the street. I felt at home. It was easy to spot the tourists - they spoke English and wore active wear.
It's a tongue in cheek observation from several authors that a French woman will put on her lipstick to check her letterbox - a) because she has standards, b) she never knows who she may meet there and importantly, c) she doesn't want to cause offence to anyone who sets eyes on her; the French do not like to be perceived as badly turned out.
Even working from home, as I do, I aim to dress nicely. That nicely may only be jeans and a top, but I'll have decent shoes on (no ugg boots in winter or rubber flip flops in summer). When I go to the shops I will put on lipstick at least, maybe a little bit of eye makeup if I feel I look washed out. My jacket will coordinate with what I'm wearing and I may even put a scarf on. Because why not. I like to feel nice and not slobby.
I can't rock the active wear look - I'm overweight but not obese, but I have curves that become bulges in active wear clothing and it ain't a pretty sight - so I choose the French option instead.
C'est la vie pour moi. Et vous?
After the class I was faced with a dilemma. I had to go to the bank and supermarket. Should I go home and change first?
Huh, you're thinking. What a snob. Just go as you are, girl, who will notice or care?
Well, I notice and I care. There is active wear and active wear. Do the full Lorna Jane or Sweaty Betty, all nicely coordinated, and you can probably get away with it. Thin, fit middle-class women do. They strut around the shopping centre with great hair, sweetly scented (you can tell they haven't been to the gym first and probably won't go ... they just dress like that) and nary a roll of fat is visible on their leggings. In winter they wear sleeveless puffa tops over their technical merino long sleeves. They have several pairs of trainers which coordinate with the accent colours in their outfits.
Active wear favours the slim. I've seen some pretty horrifying sights in leggings and skimpy gym wear and fear I'm more like them than the sleek women I see around shops in our area (which is middle-class and quite decent on the socio-economic scale). I do wear leggings, quite often in fact, but plain, non-gym ones teamed with tunic tops that cover my backside and let the best of my legs be on show. And I pair them with ballet flats or boots, not trainers. I don't own a sleeveless puffa jacket as it would make me look like an elephant.
So I felt rather ashamed of myself when I decided to hit the shops on my way home after all, bum looking big with the fleece barely covering half of it. No makeup, not even lip gloss. Hair that looked a fright after an hour's workout in a breeze.
There's a bit of me that's French. Not just in attitude, but genetically too.
You see, French women don't wear active wear outside of the gym. If they go to a gym, that is - more likely they'll go to a yoga class. I have been fortunate enough to visit France three times in the last six years and the only Parisienne I saw in a full active wear outfit was carrying a yoga mat. She had reason to be dressed as she was. Even in rural France and French towns, nobody wore active wear on the street. I felt at home. It was easy to spot the tourists - they spoke English and wore active wear.
It's a tongue in cheek observation from several authors that a French woman will put on her lipstick to check her letterbox - a) because she has standards, b) she never knows who she may meet there and importantly, c) she doesn't want to cause offence to anyone who sets eyes on her; the French do not like to be perceived as badly turned out.
Even working from home, as I do, I aim to dress nicely. That nicely may only be jeans and a top, but I'll have decent shoes on (no ugg boots in winter or rubber flip flops in summer). When I go to the shops I will put on lipstick at least, maybe a little bit of eye makeup if I feel I look washed out. My jacket will coordinate with what I'm wearing and I may even put a scarf on. Because why not. I like to feel nice and not slobby.
I can't rock the active wear look - I'm overweight but not obese, but I have curves that become bulges in active wear clothing and it ain't a pretty sight - so I choose the French option instead.
C'est la vie pour moi. Et vous?
Monday, May 19, 2014
Trespassers will be composted
After five months of feeling guilty about chucking fruit, veggies, eggshells and other organic matter into the bin, we finally got a compost bin for our new house. It nestles under the edge of a 45 year old camellia, and gets the western sun to warm it. It looks a bit like a Dalek in disguise. I'm surprised it doesn't shout "Exterminate!" every time I open the lid and put more veggie peelings into it.
I visit it daily and turn the contents with a stirrer that looks like a long metal corkscrew. Already the contents - my fruit and veg scraps, together with coffee grounds, tea leaves and the like, plus a healthy proportion of dried leaves - is starting to look like compost. Once I see a few worms in there, I'll be truly happy. The system will be working.
Buoyed up by living a bit greener, we have also bought ourselves a rechargeable lawnmower. Mum used to have a lawnmower man, John, whom I was quite happy to keep on in the role, but he's gone AWOL. He was going backpacking in Asia for six weeks in February, but I haven't heard from him since. I've tried phoning at different times of the day and his phone just rings out. I'm quite concerned about him, actually. I don't know anyone else who uses his services so can't contact them. I hope he's OK.
But, sans John, with a lawn growing madly after a rainy autumn, we debated what to do. We were doing it ourselves with a whipper snipper and a little push reel mower (i.e.,. I was the motor!), but that was a pain in the teeth. The push reel jammed on every twig.
We considered other lawnmower men, but most of them work on a schedule. They come every couple of weeks whether you need the lawn doing or not, and you are duty bound to pay them, and they all charge more than John.
So I decided we would DIY as it would get us fit. I looked at petrol mowers, and recalled the childhood days when Mum would mow the lawn with our 1960 Scott Bonner and it was a pain in the arse to start. I looked at electric mowers and rechargeable mowers and most of them wouldn't have the grunt to do justice to our lawn. It's big and sloping. Finally I found one that would: Eco-Mate.
As luck would have it, the Eco-Mate importer was awaiting a new shipment and had a demo model for sale, which had only had about two hours' use. It was nearly $100 off the list price, so G and I grabbed it. It rocks! It's half as loud as a petrol mower and all you smell is the delicious scent of freshly cut grass. The downside is the battery is humungous so it's quite a heavy unit, but it's well-built and - bliss! - starts every time. I found it easy to mow the main lawn even though it slopes. I did the higher slopes outside our chimney area and that was bloody hard going. This week G did the higher slopes and he found it hard work too, but we both agree it's a great bit of kit.
Eco-Mate can do up to 90 minutes' work on a full charge; you don't even have to remove the battery to charge it if you don't want to, either; just run the charger up to the unit. Even after ploughing through our overlong grass last week it was still half-charged when we'd finished.
I've been doing the edges with hand powered grass shears; I found an manual edger in the garage and it's shite. It just hacks at the grass, but the hand shears work a treat. There's an electric edger in there too and I'm unsure whether that still works. One weekend we'll try it, but I do worry about G and electric lawn tools. Every time he gets the whipper snipper out I wonder whether he'll chop the cord in half! He can be rather slapdash. Hence I haven't suggested we try the electric edger yet.
And not for us the awful noise of the leaf blower. Seriously, I hate those things. I don't mind the ones that actually hoover up the leaves, but all the neighbours have lawnmower and maintenance men who use leaf blowers, and they simply blow the leaves off the neighbours' drives onto the road, where they end up in the gutter and storm water channels. Annoys me no end. They all seem to work here on a Wednesday and I hear leaf blowers in triplicate. We have a big garden broom and decent garden rake and of course the new compost bin will be delighted with our leaves.
To end this post, apropos no reason at all except it's pretty, is a photo of one of my camellia flowers, Paradise Vanessa.
I visit it daily and turn the contents with a stirrer that looks like a long metal corkscrew. Already the contents - my fruit and veg scraps, together with coffee grounds, tea leaves and the like, plus a healthy proportion of dried leaves - is starting to look like compost. Once I see a few worms in there, I'll be truly happy. The system will be working.
Buoyed up by living a bit greener, we have also bought ourselves a rechargeable lawnmower. Mum used to have a lawnmower man, John, whom I was quite happy to keep on in the role, but he's gone AWOL. He was going backpacking in Asia for six weeks in February, but I haven't heard from him since. I've tried phoning at different times of the day and his phone just rings out. I'm quite concerned about him, actually. I don't know anyone else who uses his services so can't contact them. I hope he's OK.
But, sans John, with a lawn growing madly after a rainy autumn, we debated what to do. We were doing it ourselves with a whipper snipper and a little push reel mower (i.e.,. I was the motor!), but that was a pain in the teeth. The push reel jammed on every twig.
We considered other lawnmower men, but most of them work on a schedule. They come every couple of weeks whether you need the lawn doing or not, and you are duty bound to pay them, and they all charge more than John.
So I decided we would DIY as it would get us fit. I looked at petrol mowers, and recalled the childhood days when Mum would mow the lawn with our 1960 Scott Bonner and it was a pain in the arse to start. I looked at electric mowers and rechargeable mowers and most of them wouldn't have the grunt to do justice to our lawn. It's big and sloping. Finally I found one that would: Eco-Mate.
As luck would have it, the Eco-Mate importer was awaiting a new shipment and had a demo model for sale, which had only had about two hours' use. It was nearly $100 off the list price, so G and I grabbed it. It rocks! It's half as loud as a petrol mower and all you smell is the delicious scent of freshly cut grass. The downside is the battery is humungous so it's quite a heavy unit, but it's well-built and - bliss! - starts every time. I found it easy to mow the main lawn even though it slopes. I did the higher slopes outside our chimney area and that was bloody hard going. This week G did the higher slopes and he found it hard work too, but we both agree it's a great bit of kit.
Eco-Mate can do up to 90 minutes' work on a full charge; you don't even have to remove the battery to charge it if you don't want to, either; just run the charger up to the unit. Even after ploughing through our overlong grass last week it was still half-charged when we'd finished.
I've been doing the edges with hand powered grass shears; I found an manual edger in the garage and it's shite. It just hacks at the grass, but the hand shears work a treat. There's an electric edger in there too and I'm unsure whether that still works. One weekend we'll try it, but I do worry about G and electric lawn tools. Every time he gets the whipper snipper out I wonder whether he'll chop the cord in half! He can be rather slapdash. Hence I haven't suggested we try the electric edger yet.
And not for us the awful noise of the leaf blower. Seriously, I hate those things. I don't mind the ones that actually hoover up the leaves, but all the neighbours have lawnmower and maintenance men who use leaf blowers, and they simply blow the leaves off the neighbours' drives onto the road, where they end up in the gutter and storm water channels. Annoys me no end. They all seem to work here on a Wednesday and I hear leaf blowers in triplicate. We have a big garden broom and decent garden rake and of course the new compost bin will be delighted with our leaves.
To end this post, apropos no reason at all except it's pretty, is a photo of one of my camellia flowers, Paradise Vanessa.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
To carb or not to carb....
Yesterday I felt like a slug. Today I am bursting with energy.
I think the culprit for the sluggishness is carbs. On Saturday night I had pasta, delicious ravioli bought from Orange Grove Markets, as fresh as can be and quite irresistible. Sunday lunchtime I had the rest of the pasta. On Sunday night I had a pasta salad and couscous salad my neighbour gave me.
Yesterday morning I had toast for breakfast as I couldn't be bothered making anything else - only one slice as I wasn't hungry, I think I was still full from the carby dinner - and scoffed the rest of the couscous salad for lunch. I was tired, lacking energy and lacking enthusiasm. Couldn't be arsed taking the dog for a decent walk. Didn't want to tackle the ever-growing stuff in the inbox and was glad when a storm crashed overhead and I had to turn the computer off, just in case there was a lightning strike.
Last night I eschewed all the carbs sitting in the fridge and had a sausage, a baked beetroot (oh yum!) and some cauliflower with cheese for dinner. I woke up this morning feeling thinner, hungry and alert. Not that I weighed any less, but I certainly didn't feel bloated as I did the day before. This morning I had a slice of bacon and an egg fried in a non-stick pan, with some baby spinach leaves on the side. I am raring to go!
Ageing is a bastard. I turned 50 last month. I don't feel it but my body isn't what it used to be. I used to be able to eat carbs and not put on weight or feel like I needed to curl up with the cats and sleep. Now my body runs better on protein and veggies, with only a few carbs per week. Considering mashed potato is one of my favourite comfort foods it's been a hard slog cutting down on the carbs, but I can see and feel an improvement without them.
Wheat is a big problem in our society in general these days. Over the last 50 or so years different varieties have been bred for high yield, and this breeding also includes an increase in gluten, far more than in the wheat my mother ate as a child. Wheat ain't what it used to be. I don't think I tolerate the gluten like I used to; it bloats me. More and more people are exhibiting gluten intolerance it seems if the increasing number of gluten-free foods on the market is anything to go by.
Too much processing is a problem too. When I go to the supermarket just about every biscuit, cracker and crispbread is either wheat-based or rice-based. Not great. The best cracker you can eat is an oatcake; oats are low gluten if not gluten free, and fantastic for lowering cholesterol. You find oatcakes everywhere in the UK but here in Oz they were on the shelves for a few brief months last year then discontinued. I complained. Apparently not enough people joined me. So now I make my own oatcakes, and they are dead easy to make.
Cutting down on processed food including bread has helped me feel more energetic. I might eat a slice of bread a week; some weeks not even that. All the additives in a modern loaf have turned good old simple bread into an over-processed food. I was baking my own for a while there but since I cut out the carbs I haven't bothered; G still likes his toast with home-made marmalade and we try and buy sourdough from good bakers who don't load it with too many preservatives etc.
The last few weeks have been temptation-laden though as there is leftover mud cake in the fridge from my birthday. I'm rationing it to thin slices as it contains heaps of the other thing I've cut down on too - sugar.
I've tried to go sugar-free but I'm not a saint. I love dark chocolate. I love wine. Those are my weaknesses. I am at an age and a stage where I'm likely to gain weight - menopause, anyone? - so am being bloody careful not to as excess weight isn't good for your organs and is seriously hard to shift during menopausal years apparently.
I'm planning another delicious carb-free dinner tonight. Another sausage (bugger the fat content!), asparagus and another little roast beetroot. Mmm.
I think the culprit for the sluggishness is carbs. On Saturday night I had pasta, delicious ravioli bought from Orange Grove Markets, as fresh as can be and quite irresistible. Sunday lunchtime I had the rest of the pasta. On Sunday night I had a pasta salad and couscous salad my neighbour gave me.
Yesterday morning I had toast for breakfast as I couldn't be bothered making anything else - only one slice as I wasn't hungry, I think I was still full from the carby dinner - and scoffed the rest of the couscous salad for lunch. I was tired, lacking energy and lacking enthusiasm. Couldn't be arsed taking the dog for a decent walk. Didn't want to tackle the ever-growing stuff in the inbox and was glad when a storm crashed overhead and I had to turn the computer off, just in case there was a lightning strike.
Last night I eschewed all the carbs sitting in the fridge and had a sausage, a baked beetroot (oh yum!) and some cauliflower with cheese for dinner. I woke up this morning feeling thinner, hungry and alert. Not that I weighed any less, but I certainly didn't feel bloated as I did the day before. This morning I had a slice of bacon and an egg fried in a non-stick pan, with some baby spinach leaves on the side. I am raring to go!
Ageing is a bastard. I turned 50 last month. I don't feel it but my body isn't what it used to be. I used to be able to eat carbs and not put on weight or feel like I needed to curl up with the cats and sleep. Now my body runs better on protein and veggies, with only a few carbs per week. Considering mashed potato is one of my favourite comfort foods it's been a hard slog cutting down on the carbs, but I can see and feel an improvement without them.
Wheat is a big problem in our society in general these days. Over the last 50 or so years different varieties have been bred for high yield, and this breeding also includes an increase in gluten, far more than in the wheat my mother ate as a child. Wheat ain't what it used to be. I don't think I tolerate the gluten like I used to; it bloats me. More and more people are exhibiting gluten intolerance it seems if the increasing number of gluten-free foods on the market is anything to go by.
Too much processing is a problem too. When I go to the supermarket just about every biscuit, cracker and crispbread is either wheat-based or rice-based. Not great. The best cracker you can eat is an oatcake; oats are low gluten if not gluten free, and fantastic for lowering cholesterol. You find oatcakes everywhere in the UK but here in Oz they were on the shelves for a few brief months last year then discontinued. I complained. Apparently not enough people joined me. So now I make my own oatcakes, and they are dead easy to make.
Cutting down on processed food including bread has helped me feel more energetic. I might eat a slice of bread a week; some weeks not even that. All the additives in a modern loaf have turned good old simple bread into an over-processed food. I was baking my own for a while there but since I cut out the carbs I haven't bothered; G still likes his toast with home-made marmalade and we try and buy sourdough from good bakers who don't load it with too many preservatives etc.
The last few weeks have been temptation-laden though as there is leftover mud cake in the fridge from my birthday. I'm rationing it to thin slices as it contains heaps of the other thing I've cut down on too - sugar.
I've tried to go sugar-free but I'm not a saint. I love dark chocolate. I love wine. Those are my weaknesses. I am at an age and a stage where I'm likely to gain weight - menopause, anyone? - so am being bloody careful not to as excess weight isn't good for your organs and is seriously hard to shift during menopausal years apparently.
I'm planning another delicious carb-free dinner tonight. Another sausage (bugger the fat content!), asparagus and another little roast beetroot. Mmm.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Can Pashleys and Road Bikes get on?
Common sense and practical advice from other bike bloggers like Velouria says that when you ride with your partner, make sure you are riding the same kind of bike, so one person isn't at a complete disadvantage if he or she is on a steel-framed upright bike and the other is on a road bike.
I love my Pashley. I enjoy riding her more than my road bike; she's more stable and the hub gears are a dream. My husband, however, adores his road bike and despite me hinting that he might like to test ride a Pashley roadster with its beautiful ride and inherent stability, he won't be tempted.
For most of our rides during the last month, then, I've been on my Penelope Pashley and he's been on his road bike. Even when I'm on my own mixte road bike I have trouble keeping up with him as he's bigger, stronger and rides at a different cadence to me.
But something strange has been happening. I've been keeping up with him. Even overtaking him. On the Pashley.
I'm getting fitter and lighter and stronger, which is marvellous. And I admit a few days ago I got angry. There I was, pedalling fairly swiftly away from our house down our street with - bliss! - newly laid asphalt. How smooth it was! The potholes had gone, and Penelope was almost singing with joy; I was too. Then t'other half pedalled furiously and with a "ner-ner-ner-NER-ner!" overtook me. He just HAS to be in front. Every time. It's a male thing. He might say it's because it's his comfy riding speed, but he seems determined to pass me as early in our rides as possible.
So I got mad and got even. I pedalled furiously too. I caught up, and although my muscles were whingeing and then begging for mercy, hung either beside him or right on his tail as we swept through the park and onto the roads and bike paths. On a couple of the downhill stretches I passed him, with my own "ner-ner-ner-NER-ner!" and two fingers held up as I swept by.
By the time we'd reached the half way point of our usual 30 minute ride, I was pumping. I wasn't blowing too hard, and on the way back managed to stay on his tail up the hill. I usually fall back up the hill. I resort to dropping to second gear, panting and puffing. Well I stayed in third, it nearly killed me, but there was no way I was leaving the rear wheel of that little black road bike.
I checked my watch when we got home, and we'd shaved a couple of minutes off the 30 minute standard. My muscles were quivering, but I felt fantastic and really energised. My husband felt stunned that I kept up.
Sadly the weather has been awful since then; driving rain since the weekend. It wasn't raining this morning - yay! - but we elected for a walk before breakfast rather than a ride as our dog, like us, was exhibiting signs of cabin fever. Aside from which, wet jacaranda petals, which are strewing the street and our favourite bike path right now, are notoriously slippery and I don't feel confident riding on them. We've both nearly slipped over just walking on the wretched things.
Having achieved a modicum of fitness, I need to get out and exercise every day now. I feel uncomfortable if I don't.
So watch out, little black road bike. You won't have the clear road in front of you any more. You can admire the pretty taillight of a Pashley instead.
For most of our rides during the last month, then, I've been on my Penelope Pashley and he's been on his road bike. Even when I'm on my own mixte road bike I have trouble keeping up with him as he's bigger, stronger and rides at a different cadence to me.
But something strange has been happening. I've been keeping up with him. Even overtaking him. On the Pashley.
I'm getting fitter and lighter and stronger, which is marvellous. And I admit a few days ago I got angry. There I was, pedalling fairly swiftly away from our house down our street with - bliss! - newly laid asphalt. How smooth it was! The potholes had gone, and Penelope was almost singing with joy; I was too. Then t'other half pedalled furiously and with a "ner-ner-ner-NER-ner!" overtook me. He just HAS to be in front. Every time. It's a male thing. He might say it's because it's his comfy riding speed, but he seems determined to pass me as early in our rides as possible.
So I got mad and got even. I pedalled furiously too. I caught up, and although my muscles were whingeing and then begging for mercy, hung either beside him or right on his tail as we swept through the park and onto the roads and bike paths. On a couple of the downhill stretches I passed him, with my own "ner-ner-ner-NER-ner!" and two fingers held up as I swept by.
I checked my watch when we got home, and we'd shaved a couple of minutes off the 30 minute standard. My muscles were quivering, but I felt fantastic and really energised. My husband felt stunned that I kept up.
Sadly the weather has been awful since then; driving rain since the weekend. It wasn't raining this morning - yay! - but we elected for a walk before breakfast rather than a ride as our dog, like us, was exhibiting signs of cabin fever. Aside from which, wet jacaranda petals, which are strewing the street and our favourite bike path right now, are notoriously slippery and I don't feel confident riding on them. We've both nearly slipped over just walking on the wretched things.
Having achieved a modicum of fitness, I need to get out and exercise every day now. I feel uncomfortable if I don't.
So watch out, little black road bike. You won't have the clear road in front of you any more. You can admire the pretty taillight of a Pashley instead.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The incredible shrinkin' woman
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I'm on a lose-weight kick at the moment. And, by gosh and by golly, it's working.
It helps that the workload is winding down a bit near the end of the year, and I'm not waking up through the night worrying about work.
I've been using the Shape Up Club online membership and app for about a month, and have lost 4 kgs. Or around 9lbs. More than half a stone. It might not sound much, but the app recommends not trying to lose more than 500gms/1 lb per week based on my height, my current weight, and how much I want to lose. I started out at 69kg/152 lbs, and am now 65/143 lbs. Given that I'm 158cm/5'2" that's still way too heavy (or weigh too heavy). I want to get down to about 60kg/132 lbs. Under that would be nice but I haven't been under 60 kgs since 1991! At my worst I was 72kg a couple of years ago, and I'm not going to translate THAT into pounds...far too depressing!
This pic, lousy as it is, is one I took today. I tried to upload one of me at a chunky 72kg but the server rejected it. Truly. The server obviously has good taste.
I'm currently allocated about 4,500kJs a day to eat, and I try to come in under that if I can. From having a row of Lindt dark chocolate every night, I'm now only having it about once a week and not really missing it. I don't do biscuits any more, or cake. Although I suspect I'll add the occasional one back in when I've reached my goal. Everything in moderation :-).
I haven't had to make too many dietary changes as we eat pretty good food in general; minimal fast food (emergencies only), not many cakes or biscuits, no soft drinks or sodas, very few snacks such as crisps. Chocolate and wine are the main weaknesses so I've cut down on the chocs and now have a glass of low alcohol wine with a few ice cubes in it at night. Wine is civilised. I refuse to give it up. I had, like many of us, blown out on the portion sizes for protein such as chicken and meat so had to reeducate myself there. To help things along I minimise the carbs I have in the evening, as they don't get burned off as easily.
Because I'm not stressing my butt off and tying myself to the desk from early in the morning until dinner time, I'm making time to get out and get physical. I'm walking a minimum of 30 minutes a day (and that's brisk walking... sometimes my husband has to puff to keep up on the hills). I'm cycling again, to the shops and for leisure around the streets and parks at weekends. Housework, cleaning and gardening all burn kJs very nicely - something I've always done anyway. I've been to the gym once, but slogging along for half an hour on a treadmill or stationary bike is boring as hell compared to being out in the fresh air on a real bike, smelling peoples' gardens and having the sun on my skin. I've started using my husband's hand weights at home and doing pushups and other resistance exercises.
A bonus is my skin is looking brighter - I got a fantastic compliment from a client yesterday who thought I'd had some kind of surgery or expensive facial treatments.
And oh, bliss, my jeans are loose. The Fat Person jeans I bought last year. They're just about sliding off my hips. I also had a pair of low-slung cargo jeans which I hate but hadn't got around to replacing. I had to replace them this week as I got so sick of hitching them up. I don't wear belts with low slung jeans as they draw attention to my hips and increase the risk of the dreaded muffin top :-). And I replaced them with a size smaller (and slightly higher rise too so they don't fall down as easily).
Keeping the diet under control as we head into Silly Season will be a challenge; those canapes at cocktail parties are killers, and I have a few parties I have to attend on behalf of my work. But now I've seen a result I'm determined to keep up the good work.
It helps that the workload is winding down a bit near the end of the year, and I'm not waking up through the night worrying about work.
I've been using the Shape Up Club online membership and app for about a month, and have lost 4 kgs. Or around 9lbs. More than half a stone. It might not sound much, but the app recommends not trying to lose more than 500gms/1 lb per week based on my height, my current weight, and how much I want to lose. I started out at 69kg/152 lbs, and am now 65/143 lbs. Given that I'm 158cm/5'2" that's still way too heavy (or weigh too heavy). I want to get down to about 60kg/132 lbs. Under that would be nice but I haven't been under 60 kgs since 1991! At my worst I was 72kg a couple of years ago, and I'm not going to translate THAT into pounds...far too depressing!
This pic, lousy as it is, is one I took today. I tried to upload one of me at a chunky 72kg but the server rejected it. Truly. The server obviously has good taste.
I'm currently allocated about 4,500kJs a day to eat, and I try to come in under that if I can. From having a row of Lindt dark chocolate every night, I'm now only having it about once a week and not really missing it. I don't do biscuits any more, or cake. Although I suspect I'll add the occasional one back in when I've reached my goal. Everything in moderation :-).
I haven't had to make too many dietary changes as we eat pretty good food in general; minimal fast food (emergencies only), not many cakes or biscuits, no soft drinks or sodas, very few snacks such as crisps. Chocolate and wine are the main weaknesses so I've cut down on the chocs and now have a glass of low alcohol wine with a few ice cubes in it at night. Wine is civilised. I refuse to give it up. I had, like many of us, blown out on the portion sizes for protein such as chicken and meat so had to reeducate myself there. To help things along I minimise the carbs I have in the evening, as they don't get burned off as easily.
Because I'm not stressing my butt off and tying myself to the desk from early in the morning until dinner time, I'm making time to get out and get physical. I'm walking a minimum of 30 minutes a day (and that's brisk walking... sometimes my husband has to puff to keep up on the hills). I'm cycling again, to the shops and for leisure around the streets and parks at weekends. Housework, cleaning and gardening all burn kJs very nicely - something I've always done anyway. I've been to the gym once, but slogging along for half an hour on a treadmill or stationary bike is boring as hell compared to being out in the fresh air on a real bike, smelling peoples' gardens and having the sun on my skin. I've started using my husband's hand weights at home and doing pushups and other resistance exercises.
A bonus is my skin is looking brighter - I got a fantastic compliment from a client yesterday who thought I'd had some kind of surgery or expensive facial treatments.
And oh, bliss, my jeans are loose. The Fat Person jeans I bought last year. They're just about sliding off my hips. I also had a pair of low-slung cargo jeans which I hate but hadn't got around to replacing. I had to replace them this week as I got so sick of hitching them up. I don't wear belts with low slung jeans as they draw attention to my hips and increase the risk of the dreaded muffin top :-). And I replaced them with a size smaller (and slightly higher rise too so they don't fall down as easily).
Keeping the diet under control as we head into Silly Season will be a challenge; those canapes at cocktail parties are killers, and I have a few parties I have to attend on behalf of my work. But now I've seen a result I'm determined to keep up the good work.
Monday, August 23, 2010
How busy is too busy?
I saw my doctor last Wednesday, who tells me I'm suffering from stress. This has manifested itself as stomach palpitations and psoriasis (ugh) on my legs. Oh, and my blood pressure is up, too. She told me I had to think about working less hours.
I looked at my diary carefully. Since March, I've had five, maybe six, weekends where I haven't had to do some kind of work for some client or other. I've been running a chamber of commerce during the week and building websites like a madwoman at weekends.
I work from 9 to 6 or after during the week with a cursory lunch break and usually 10 till 4 at weekends. I try to go for a walk before breakfast, but if I've lain awake worrying about work for a couple of hours at 2am I find it hard to get up again at 6. I try and ride a bike to the shops, or walk, but if I'm on a deadline for something that five minutes I save taking the car makes a mental difference. Doctor recommends walking or cycling :-). More exercise to help alleviate the stress in other words.
So I have a month before I see the doctor again, and she's told me that during that time I have to think seriously about my work and what I can give up. I'd love to give up the Chamber of Commerce as it's the work I enjoy the least these days. Sadly it's also regular money and 80% of my income at the moment. The thought of losing that money adds to the stress as it's 80% of not very much when all's said and done.
My husband has told me my health is the most important thing and he'll do whatever it takes to take up the financial slack if I cut myself free from the chamber to concentrate on work I actually enjoy doing... like websites and writing.
With social media obligations thrown into the mix looking after the chamber as a one-woman band has really become too much (Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn - I have to add people to our group on those sites and input email addresses etc etc et flippin' cetera). I've spoken to my president and said I need help but realistically I need a succession plan, not just help, and I can't think of anyone in the member base who's daft enough to take on what I do for the number of hours each week I do it. I've refused help so far as I don't have the time to train someone or manage someone, but I think I'll have to bite the bullet and do it or self-implode.
On the plus side I took a complete day off yesterday; we went for a drive into the country. We were going to take the bikes but t'other half wasn't feeling fantastic so we elected to walk around some country towns on foot, poke about in antique shops and hit a specialist herb and rare plants nursery. I hardly had a stomach palpitation all day (unlike today, when I'm back at the desk).
So my goal is to find someone to take over my chamber job more or less completely by next year. I'd be happy still doing graphic and web stuff for the chamber, but not the admin, the banking, the events, the filing, the phone calls, the emails and everything else. During the last year I've had three acquaintances doing a similar chamber job to mine quit, burned out. There must be something in the air 'cos I'm going to add myself to the list.
I looked at my diary carefully. Since March, I've had five, maybe six, weekends where I haven't had to do some kind of work for some client or other. I've been running a chamber of commerce during the week and building websites like a madwoman at weekends.
I work from 9 to 6 or after during the week with a cursory lunch break and usually 10 till 4 at weekends. I try to go for a walk before breakfast, but if I've lain awake worrying about work for a couple of hours at 2am I find it hard to get up again at 6. I try and ride a bike to the shops, or walk, but if I'm on a deadline for something that five minutes I save taking the car makes a mental difference. Doctor recommends walking or cycling :-). More exercise to help alleviate the stress in other words.
So I have a month before I see the doctor again, and she's told me that during that time I have to think seriously about my work and what I can give up. I'd love to give up the Chamber of Commerce as it's the work I enjoy the least these days. Sadly it's also regular money and 80% of my income at the moment. The thought of losing that money adds to the stress as it's 80% of not very much when all's said and done.
My husband has told me my health is the most important thing and he'll do whatever it takes to take up the financial slack if I cut myself free from the chamber to concentrate on work I actually enjoy doing... like websites and writing.
With social media obligations thrown into the mix looking after the chamber as a one-woman band has really become too much (Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn - I have to add people to our group on those sites and input email addresses etc etc et flippin' cetera). I've spoken to my president and said I need help but realistically I need a succession plan, not just help, and I can't think of anyone in the member base who's daft enough to take on what I do for the number of hours each week I do it. I've refused help so far as I don't have the time to train someone or manage someone, but I think I'll have to bite the bullet and do it or self-implode.
On the plus side I took a complete day off yesterday; we went for a drive into the country. We were going to take the bikes but t'other half wasn't feeling fantastic so we elected to walk around some country towns on foot, poke about in antique shops and hit a specialist herb and rare plants nursery. I hardly had a stomach palpitation all day (unlike today, when I'm back at the desk).
So my goal is to find someone to take over my chamber job more or less completely by next year. I'd be happy still doing graphic and web stuff for the chamber, but not the admin, the banking, the events, the filing, the phone calls, the emails and everything else. During the last year I've had three acquaintances doing a similar chamber job to mine quit, burned out. There must be something in the air 'cos I'm going to add myself to the list.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Back: off
Dammit. Every time my fitness reaches a certain level, something gives. Usually my lower back or my neck. There I was last week, getting fitter, running for a longer portion of our morning walk every day, belting around on the bikes and feeling a million dollars. And now I have pulled muscles in my lower back.
I don't know how I did it. I think possibly I slept awkwardly on Friday night - probably twisting my lower body around the two cats who curl up tightly against me on colder nights. They can overheat me and I've probably wrenched something in my sleep trying to get my legs around them without kicking them off (I'm too kind to them, I think; I hate disturbing them too much when they sleep).
It wasn't too bad on Saturday morning however, just a little bit twingey. So I was daft enough to do some gardening. We have clay soil here. Planting anything new usually requires a pickaxe, and I had four plants to get out of their pots and in the ground. As I swung the pickaxe cheerfully I revelled in how much fitter I was than a few months ago; gosh, it was no effort at all, I wasn't puffing, I could go on for ages...
Two hours later I was hitting the painkillers and lying in front of the heater with the heat blowing onto my back. Yesterday I was still stiff and despite the beautiful day didn't even feel up to a ride. More painkillers. More heater. A short walk with the dog in the afternooon. It's still sore this morning but not as bad as yesterday. Time to start moving about more but I'm not up to anything strenuous.
Bugger!!! Big fat bugger!!!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
My goodness, I'm actually getting fitter!
This no-smoking lark is paying off. T'Other Half and I have been for quite a few rides in the last week; just locally, nothing long and interesting, but I've noticed a difference in my fitness. Stamina was never my strong point even before I became a smoker. I'm basically a lazy git who hates riding up hills.
But on our rides lately, when we've both had the road bikes out and are more evenly matched, I can keep up with my husband. In short sprints, I can overtake him if he's not ready for me *evil cackle*. His bike is a kilo lighter than mine and he's a lot stronger than I am, so he does get away from me after a bit when my legs start to ache too much to pedal like fury. But not nearly as much as he was getting away a month ago.
On our usual ride there is one short, steep hill that usually has us both gasping. At the beginning of autumn I was taking this in low gear and being overtaken by joggers, my breath sobbing. Now I'm doing it in fourth, and not gasping for breath. My legs ache by the time I'm at the top, but I can simply keep pedalling steadily and carrying on.
I'm not seeing much success in my permanent quest for weight loss since we started riding regularly again, but the improved fitness and stronger wind is a real bonus. I still long desperately for a cigarette on a daily basis, but then I think of that blasted hill, and all the other hills where we live, and the craving goes away.
Hopefully the weather will be fine - or at least not raining - on Saturday and we can head down to Olympic Park and get a couple of hours' riding in. For now though, I'm about to saddle up the trusty Pashley and head to the shops.
Monday, April 19, 2010
My Lady Nicotine
Last Thursday I gave up smoking for the eleventy hundredth time. Now, I've never been a heavy smoker, not a pack-a-day person; a usual day would be just under half a pack. But that half a pack (sometimes less, sometimes none) a day has been hanging around for about fourteen or so years. A lot too long. My doctor told me last year to give up, and I did try, but I hate being told to do things, even if they are for my own good. I think it stems from having a very controlling parent as a child, who told me what I wanted and didn't want to do rather than let me make my own decisions. I've been rebelling ever since. At my age you'd think I'd have grown out of rebelling.
Anyway, I found giving up last year so damned impossible I thought I'd never crack the habit. I used cigarettes as a form of procrastination. When I don't want to phone a client and talk to them - have a fag*. When I'm stuck on a design element or idea - have a fag. When I can't think of the words to write - have a fag. I'd use cigs as a stress release; after a confrontation with a client, or when I felt backed into a corner with too many people wanting my time I'd escape outside with a cigarette. I'd used them to have a few minutes to myself, particularly when I worked in an office with others; I needed to escape from the mob quite a lot. I used cigarettes when I relaxed, too; nothing like a smoke when you're sitting down with a chilled white wine. I'd get antsy over at my mother's, as she hates smoking and I could never feel comfortable smoking there, so I had to go without which was very hard for me at family dinners or parties. Anywhere there was a a glass of wine for me, I wanted a smoke as well. (* - British for cigarette. Just so's there's no confusion.)
But now it's been five days, and I didn't think I'd manage this. Usually at this point in the giving up process I'm climbing the walls. I have 'fake' cigarettes in the form of a plastic ciggy-shaped thing which has a little vial of nicotine and menthol in it. If I really crave one, I suck on that for the length of time I'd usually take to smoke a cigarette.
What's made it bearable, doable and (I intend) permanent is the Gabriel Method. The GM is primarily a weight loss method which isn't a diet per se but encourages you to eat 'real' foods and comes with a visualisation CD. You visualise yourself with your desired body and through other visualisations as well as a sensible diet and exercise you trick your body into losing weight (or words to that effect). Anyway, the CD is a form of mild hypnosis I think. Jon Gabriel plants the seed in your mind that you'll only crave healthy food not sweet things or rubbish food (I rarely crave junk food anyway, I've always preferred to eat fresh). After a week of listening to it every day I found that I wasn't craving cigarettes as I used to. I was also far less stressed; the CDs are excellent for stress release too. Even if I don't lose weight I'm feeling better within myself.
Right, I thought, with 3 cigs left in the pack on Thursday morning, let's see how long I can go without having a smoke once I've finished these three. I'm still going. I do long for a ciggy every so often, and I go to pick up my fake fag and 'smoke' it but it doesn't taste very nice so that's offputting too. I just go without.
Any time the urge comes upon me, I think of my bicycles. How much better I'll feel riding them without cigarettes in my life and my lungs. How much easier it will be going up hills. Yesterday we went for a ride and I was able to sprint past my husband. Not for long, he always likes being in front; but I felt more powerful within myself. More capable.
Anyway, mind over matter, one day at a time and any other cliche you can add at this point. It takes three weeks to form a habit; I have two and a bit to go before my cigarette habit is more firmly a no-cigarette habit.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Curse this bug
I'm having a self-indulgent non-bicycle post moment, heeding the title of my blog. I've come down with a sore throat and murderous ears. I blame it on being stuck on aeroplanes with 100 other people to and from Melbourne and being cursed with a hotel room that had aircon but windows that didn't open.
I hate getting these bugs. I'm prone to sinusitis, so at the first hint of anything nasty I reach for the cold and flu tablets. They turn me into a space cadet but at least I don't feel that my sinuses are going to break through my skin, jump from my head and do a salsa on the floor. Sometimes in bad moments I just wish they would; at least it would break up the pressure in my face.
Viz... yesterday I slept all afternoon as the tablets, supposedly non-drowsy, sent me for six. I managed to get to sleep okay later in the evening but kept waking through the night and finally gave up at about 3am and crept out of bed without disturbing Other Half or cats and delved into The Portable Dorothy Parker. (Thank you, Penguin! Thank you!) I drank it in so greedily it became The Potable Dorothy Parker. Another dose of tabs sent my sinuses back to sleep and thankfully me too, but I felt wrecked this morning.
Today I had to balance the tabs with the need to drive halfway across town for a radio show taping. I help a friend out with her show on community radio, and do a "what's on" segment. While I was able to drive okay, I was very agreeable towards the other idiots on the road who usually make me shout at them behind closed windows and raise my heart rate. Maybe I should drive partially zonked a bit more often :-).
Now the whole lot has settled down to a stable ache: ears, throat and sinus. Lemon drinks with honey await me. I must have a strong masculine side as whenever I get one of these bugs I'm worse than a guy with man flu. Maybe it's just a low pain threshold.
The worst thing about getting a bug this time of year is that the weather is nice. It's gently warm, it's sunny, there's a pleasant breeze. It's cycling weather. In winter you expect to get bugs and huddle by the fire being all sniffly; usually it's raining/blowing a gale outside anyway, and dark by 4.30pm. At the moment I think if I got on Penelope, my balance is so bad thanks to my ears I'd just gracelessly hove to starboard and wind up surprised on the ground. If I had the energy to get on her.
Anyway normal service will resume as soon as possible/once I've stopped feeling wimpily sorry for myself/in about 2.5 days. Pills, please.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Phew.....
I've been having a health scare over the last couple of months. In a nutshell my doctor was concerned I could have a tumour on my left kidney. A rather unpleasant day of tests at the hospital yesterday gave me the all clear however. Yay!!!!!! Thankfully I was knocked out for the cystostomy et al, but as I don't like anaesthetics much I was stressing about that too. There's something rather creepy about being unconscious while other people are poking and prodding at you. I guess I have to take the view that it's better to be unconscious than feeling the pain!
So, no cycling until tomorrow night they tell me, but I think champagne is on the cards for tonight.
When I bought Penelope it was with the view that if there was something seriously wrong with me, I'd at least have had my dream bike if only for a while. Looks like I'll be enjoying her for a long time yet, fingers crossed.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Get fit...ride a Pashley!
I had to nip down to the shops this morning to buy some more printer cartridges, and thought I'd take Petunia the Mixte for a ride in the lovely spring sunshine. I deliberately haven't ridden her since I bought Penelope, as I wanted to get to know Penelope inside out and get used to riding her with her extra 7 kilos.
So I was astonished today at how much fitter I seem to have become in the last three weeks. Honestly I think I was channelling Cadell Evans this morning :-). I was pelting up the little hills in a higher gear than I used to ride Petunia in, and not even blowing by the time I got to the top. Doing the same route on Penelope leaves me gasping, with aching legs, but perseverance is the key, and today's little exercise tells me Penelope is doing me a lot of good.
I'm lucky to have two lovely and very different bicycles to ride, luckier too that spring is here and the sunshine is a siren song to get out there and enjoy them both.
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