Brainy

The physio attending LBTEPA shall henceforth be known as Bhaumic the Brainy, for that is in fact his name, and he doth, in fact, clearly have a supply of the good oil and for a reasonable fee has shared it with our heroine, to excellent effect. LBTEPA's leisure time has of late been consumed with the activities pictured above (as you can see some of the photos of me turned out more flattering than others). AND - get this, no really - THEY'RE WORKING! The other day I was at the physio and detected an expression on his face with which I was unfamiliar. Being ever intent on the pursuit of information, I quizzed him on this. 'I'm really happy with what I'm seeing' he said.
I nearly burst into tears. Much better than my usual bursting into tears in the car after the physio because nothing ever bloody works and it's all taking so bloody long.
THERE IS actual real fair dinkum no joke no fear of contradiction PROGRESS!! My knees are starting to track properly, my arches are lifting, my feet don't hurt and I am actually really going to get out of this everlasting hellhole of broken one day soon. Allowed: uphill on the treadmill, seated weights, water running, cycling. Not allowed: every other bloody thing that's fun (although I am sneaking in some heels, a girl needs something to live for, no?), but NEVER MIND!

More anon, happy clappers!

little things

I'm trying little changes at the moment. Getting up a bit earlier, eating different things for lunch. I'm just overcome by a sense of can't be bothered, which may have arisen from trying very hard for ages with nothing happening, perhaps? This cbb is a very pleasant feeling, which means it is DANGEROUS DANGEROUS DANGEROUS. Must. reconnect. with. DISCIPLINE. The physio hasn't given me permission to do anything amusing yet but I really should drink a nice big mug of give-a-rat's-backside and actually do what's on the list instead of getting distracted with how nice the new-mown grass smells and how comfy the swing seat is and how funny my new book is and I do have washing to hang out....
Off to the gym now before I get too used to this sloth. Mmmmmm...sloth.....nice.....

 More anon, summertimers!

Chunking

Firstly, if you are from Southern Oz I hope you've got through this terrible heat wave ok and that you and your loved ones are not threatened by these awful fires
The lovely Lisa has given the LBTEPA Department of Philosphy and Hard Thinking much about which to cogitate. To whit: I was startled by the thought that I need to forgive my ex-friend. Lisa is of course, correct (as always!); if someone lies to you for a long period of time with the intent of deceiving you, that's wrong, yes? And hurtful. I think I have forgiven her for that. It's made me see her in a completely different way, though. I don't want her in my life and I mourn our dead friendship. I don't see any need to forgive her for doing Goofy though - I've said all along that she had every right to do exactly as she  pleased. If I don't judge her actions as wrong then there's nothing to forgive (?). I'm thinking hard about forgiveness, anger and hurt though; can they co-exist? Can you have forgiven someone when the thought of his or her behaviour still provokes flashes of fury or pain? I think so. What do you think?
Another thing I found out is that some people process painful episodes by talking about them and other people process them by not talking about them; when the latter encounter the former they get irritable and accuse them of 'going on and on about things', whereupon the former feel unheard and judged and try to explain themselves again to the latter, often increasingly angrily. A row is likely to ensue at this point.
But I digress.
Lisa also suggested that I find small goals to celebrate on my return journey to health and strength. Hmmm. The LBTEPA School of Quantum Mechanics has put its finest minds to work and produced a list of the smallest possible components that I can tick off in the name of Getting Somewhere At Long Bloody Last. It's in the sidebar ---------------------------------------------->
Can't get much more chunky than that.

Looking at it upset me at first 'cause it does rub my nose in how debilitated I currently am -and I am so sick of being so restricted, so very very very sick of it - but I got over it. Cheerful and disciplined, that's me.
 More anon, rocky roaders!

What I learned from Goofy

It's taken a little while to get balanced again after lacking the discipline to refrain from checking the Goofy 2014 results - yes, my ****ing ***** of an ex-friend did finish, of course she did. She always gets everything she goes after.
I was ***ing shattered. Could barely stop crying. It took me right back to that weekend, limping around Disney World, trying to enjoy it and not ruin the fam's holiday. It took me back to when I found out how my ****ing ***** of an ex-friend had stabbed me in the back and all the intimacy and trust and sharing we'd had in our friendship over (at least) the last year had been a big fat lie.It took me back to people looking at me  in that what a stupid thing to be upset about way, and other people smirking and saying 'really, it's quite funny' when it bloody isn't and never will be.
But I've moved past that frightening, sad, missed-a-step phase now. I'm still absolutely filthy, and appear likely to remain so but I'm stepping back and looking at things.
So here's what I learned from Goofy.
Sadness lasts a long time and can pop up and ambush you
You miss your past strong healthy self like you miss a loved one
Manning up and holding it together is very good discipline but sometimes it makes people thinking you're not hurting as much as you actually are.
Losing a huge dream makes you very afraid to have other dreams or even move very far from the absolute present.
I'm scared of curbs
Some of your friends are selfish lying ****ing *****es and there's nothing you can do about that.
It's a very long way and costs a great deal of money to travel to Disney World. I still ant to do Goofy. I want those medals! But I can't see justifying it financially - and I can't see any linear connection between where I am now and being able to run any meaningful distance either. All I can do is pretend, in as cheerful, disciplined and mindful a way as possible (although I confess there have been some monumental failures with regard to the first two this week), and do what the physio says. Activate the core! Swimming's been taken off the table, btw. Boo. We're staying in a block of flats in Brisbane (did I tell you we're on holiday in Brisbane this week? Brisbane's fab!) so, in the absence of a treadmill on which to walk (only while adjusted to the highest incline though) I have been climbing the 10 floors of stairs each day.Go me!
I have to get out of this fearful place. I have to start looking ahead without flinching. But how? Any thoughts?
What big dreams are you chasing?

Cheerful, disciplined and mindful

As my five faithful readers know, LBTEPA Inc. does like to have something to focus on - 'you say I'm goal-oriented like it's a bad thing' didn't come out of nowhere!
If you'd care to glance to your right you will see that the focus words for the year have changed from 'work hard' to 'cheerful, disciplined and mindful'.
Last year, let's face it, was a bit of a slog athletically (as the LBTEPA Institute of Spin-Doctors has kindly put it - most would have called it a wretched, self-pitying, lard-stacking wallow in disaster), but This Year Will Be Different. Even if it isn't, if you see what I mean.
I'll give you an example: gosh my knees have been hurting like absolute **** lately - is it Another Bloody Injury, Becuase I'm So Fat or part of the Everlasting Rubik's Rehab? Who knows, but I'm hoping to find out on Thursday when I see the physio again - but rather than freaking out/plunging into despair/smothering my feelings with carbs and chardy (BTW did you know there's a French tennis player called Chardy? How fab!) I am following LBTEPA's Way of 2014. I'm being cheerful about it, when possible. I'm being as disciplined as possible with my eating, drinking and workouts - but from a mindful perspective. Oh for ****'s sake LBTEPA, I hear you say, don't go all 0pr@h on us - what's this mindfulness malarky? Mindfulness is deciding what I need right now. Most of the time, discipline will say I need to practice getting up early again and keeping commitments to work out with others instead of chickening out, but sometimes mindfulness will point out that I need to sleep a bit longer or that the long hilly ride the girls have planned is too much when I've only recently been released from 2 years chained to the physio's couch and will only result k's and k's of uphill trudging and days of horribly sore knees. Or it should have *slaps forehead while scoffing ibuprofen*. Clearly I have to practice this.
It's a kind approach, which works better for me than self-flagellation, and I think it'll work better for learning new habits.
The LBTEPA Institute for Behavioural Modification has also belatedly come to realise that 'sort yourself out you fat cow' has not been an effective motivator *slaps forehead again*. The new guiding principle for behavioural decisions (such as it's 8.40 and Noddie has been arking up and I'm tired, will I go out on my bike anyway?) is will this get me closer to another marathon? (answer: yes! And I had such a good time too!)
Waddya reckon? I like it!
This post has taken ages. I think I'm falling into the trap of letting the perfect be the enemy of the good, so here goes, and onward into 2014!
What's your focus for the year?

More anon, twinkletoes!

New year's resolution

 Much thought has gone into the way LBTEPA Inc will approach 2014 but the Spousal Unit has taken home Noddie's little friend for me so I can squeeze in a visit to the pool, so I am out the door now
More anon, cherubs!

Happiness is when your kid lets you sleep past 6.30 on Christmas day

MERRY CHRISTMAS :)

Breathing in, breathing out

This has been a big two weeks - Noddie's dance concert  week (final classes, photo shoot, stop-start and dress rehearsals and two performances) was followed in tragically rapid succession by the passing away of the Spousal Unit's mother in the early hours of Monday morning. It was very peaceful and gentle, the best way you could ask for I suppose.Since then there has been the organisation of two services 350km apart; one for the family at the country cemetery where my mother-in-law wanted to be interred, and one back here. We're full up the wazoo with restaurant food, church-lady pointy sandwiches and slice and I never want to hear K.D. Lang's 'hallelujia' ever again. Thank goodness I am uber-prepared for Christmas and have an admin assistant I could ring up at 7am on Monday to ring all my clients and cancel their appointments (thanks Mum!). J is still in shock, his dad is shattered and Noddie is so sad it's just heartbreaking. I've been shoving whatever's at hand into my mouth just to keep moving and there has been no exercise whatsoever. I'm not weighing myself for at least a week, and after I finish this I'm not getting off the couch for several days.
I did attend my physio appointment this week and in a much-needed ray of sunshine, we think we have identified The Problem at last. Apparently when most people activate their abs, both their upper and lower abs join in. Not mine, it seems. They just sit peering about vaguely, saying 'huh?' when requested to do their bit. Well, not any more. The lazy little bastards are about to get the shock of their lives when I pummel them with the new exercises the physio gave me. Bwahahaha! And I'm allowed to swim again - not freestyle yet, just breaststroke and backstroke but I'm not whingeing no no no noooo. Also allowed to cycle again as often and as far as I like.
Edit: I have just been to the pool; I got tired alarmingly early but it was lovely anyway.
More anon, plodders-on

best words ever spoken

"It always seems impossible until it's done." - Nelson Mandela

11/12/13

had to head this with the date bc it's so fun to write!... and there isn't much else going on. Operation 'completely rebuild my gait so my knees track properly' grinds its interminable way on. I'm almost numb to thoughts of one day being able to do something fun like swimming or running. One day I will get fit again. I will. I just have to keep doing the stupid boring upsetting painful exercises important basic stuff now, over and over and over, whether or not it makes me sad becuase it's so obvious how very very far I have to go. That will get me there.Still, summer is here and so is Christmas, my tree is up, the house is full of tinsel, the cards have been posted and it's Noddie's dance concert on the weekend which has become good fun now I'm not so terrified of the backstage mums.

more anon, tinselators!

No no no

abs didn't activate - I made them activate
glutes didn't activate - I'm making them activate
no walking, no swimming - I don't walk or swim
nearly drown in anger and shame and sadness - I work out how to reframe it and be ok
went to the gym the other night and was all excited becuase I got to do some cool stuff on the bosu ball, which was hard and required concentrating like a mofo. I had fun. I felt good! (not happening so much lately so I hung onto it all day).
went to the physio today - glutes still not activating, and my knees turn in! I knew that, but I thought it was just how they were - apparently it's functional, not structural. I have to undo 45 years of wonky-kneed bipedalling. Somehow.
no swimming
no elliptical
no bosu ball

short rides only
as for running hahahahahahahahahahaha

[swear word]

Motto for the week

aka boo and hiss to my stupid tiresome uncooperative painful glutes/hips/core. I will  bully them into responding to the stupid boring exercises that I never miss. I will be allowed to swim soon. I will. And then I will RUN. I WILL.

And on a MUCH MORE IMPORTANT  NOTE....
are we all getting up early on Sunday/staying up late on Saturday to watch the Dr Who 50th anniversary special? Of course we are.

  

oh come now, we all want to be River Song

 More anon, sonic screwdrivers!

Captain Obvious

Much cogitation has occurred within the LBTEPA noggin of late.
I have come to the conclusion that speaking to my former friend about her decisions would be pointless. She can do what she wants and I am not judging her. I don't choose to have people like her in my life. Noddie, being ten, is all for telling her to drop dead and that I hope those medals are worth 15 years of friendship, but the only reason I would do that would be so she felt terribly guilty and didn't enjoy her experience. Revenge, if you will. Not my best self, so not happening (although I did have a very vivid dream in which I gave her absolute what-for and awoke feeling very satisfied). Mind you if she pushes the issue I promise nothing.
I caught up with the mighty Emma on the weekend - always a pleasure! - and we discussed what we would do if we had the urge to do a race the other had dreamed of but had been unable to do. I said at the time that I'd discuss it, ask permission almost - but I was wrong! If, for example, I decided all of a sudden that I wanted to have a crack at Coast to Kosi, Emma's dream race (she's insane), I wouldn't discuss it with her before entering it. I wouldn't do it. It's her dream, not mine, and I wouldn't rub her nose in the fact she couldn't have it. Why? Because she's my friend.
I suppose the way I've summed it up for myself is that my former friend can have anything she wants but not everything she wants.
Now enough about that.
I've come to the belated conclusion that I have been going about this while new exercise/food/drink regime to wrong way. For the first while I was focussed on 'shoulds' - I should have done this, shouldn't have done that etc. This is wrong, I can't do it, it's too hard. I was feeling sick about going to the gym, I wasn't  enjoying my food, I felt guilty all the time. I was often nearly in tears. I was drowning in failure. It was unpleasant.
Then somehow I managed to see it another way. I think it began the week I logged my planned and actual exercise - and five out of seven didn't work out, for reasons including I chose spending time with my family over the gym, my mother-in-law's nursing care was unacceptable so I had to storm up to the hospital and Sort It Out, I wanted to keep going and finish a craft project I've been mucking around on fifteen minutes at a time for months, and choosing to work late so I could have a full day off instead of spending Friday in the office. One of the workouts didn't happen at all (shame! shame!), but on the other days I did something else. I wasn't a failure at all! I was only calling myself that! (slaps forehead, says 'duh!'). It's not as though I'm training for anything in particular - anthing si enough, for the moment! Duh!
I had another 'duh!' moment this week. As my five faithful readers know, LBTEPA is partial to a sherby. I know it's the reason I've gained so much weight, but somehow not-getting-any-fatter wasn't a good enough reason to not indulge. Being lardy with no clothes that fit just made me sadder and want another drink! I know, I know.... lame lame lame. My weight is, however, a clear factor in the slowness of my rehab, and the other day it occurred to me that every day without alcohol is a day closer to racing again. OMG! See? Duh! Uber-duh!I don't know how long it will work, but I plan to ride that rattler as far as it goes.
More anon, hobos!

10

November 18th 2003

How blessed and lucky we are :)
Happy birthday Noddie!

quick question

Oh my but I have SUCH  lot to write - so many (ahem) 'profound' thoughts to record for posterity!
But today I have a question for you, my five faithful readers.
Just suppose you were a heavyish middle-aged-ish Very Slow Marathoner who had A Big (and very expensive) Dream of running an amazing race in a Magic Kingdom on the other side of the world. Suppose you worked hard and saved up and trained and dreamed of little else for a couple of years. And just suppose fate cruelly snatched that Big Dream from you by way of a last-minute injury, while still obliging you to travel across the world and keep a stiff upper lip while your nose was rubbed in what you couldn't have.Suppose you did this with as good grace and as much gratitude as you could muster, becuase life isn't all about you, and returned home, and got on with life, and then had another injury, one that sometimes seemed endless. Sometimes you wondered if you would ever get your athletic life back again, ever. And always, always, you got on with stoically mourning that Big expensive Dream on the other side of the world.
Then suppose you had travelled several hours to celebrate the birthday of a someone who you would have considered one of your dearest, closest, have-your-back-no-matter-what friends, with whom you have shared many trials and tribulations over these fifteen years and to whom you speak regularly. During conversation at this dinner party it came up that she herself was going across the world to run at the magic kingdom next January. Seven weeks from now she will be wearing those three medals that you so longed for. 
She'd never heard of the race until you told her about it.
It sold out in August  and she has only mentioned it to you yesterday becuase someone else made a comment.
She's extremely well off and could afford to do any race on the ****ing planet if she wanted to.
She's done two half marathons and one full to date.
Now suppose that some time over the next frozen day you decide that, whilst acknowledging unreservedly that she has every right to go wherever she pleases, you don't need people like that in your life.
Question: do you tell her you never want to see or hear from her again and she sure as F*** better not wear her Team SD shirt to run Goofy, or just very determinedly and politely (for that is the LBTEPA way) let the friendship go?
The vote here at chez LBTEPA is tied. I'm torn, but leaning toward the latter approach. You?

More anon, cogitators!

The penny drops

Team LBTEPA had a brilliant time in Sydney.

 It is impossible to stop looking at the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. Stunning.

  

 285m up? Makes for a better view!

I *heart* Manly Beach!
Since returning from Sin City your heroine has ventured into other unknown territory, to whit: the colourist's chair at the hair salon! You may henceforth refer to me as Bluey

I'm not used to it yet and still a bit iffy about what it does to my skin tone, but everyone else likes it.
Which leads me to the very loud 'clunk' you may have heard from these parts recently.
It's just sunk in (don't ask why - okIoveratelastweekandthe2kgIlaboriouslyshedhavemadetheirwaybackonindoublequicktimebastards) that I will have to think about everything I eat. All. The Time.
Which means no more winging it - gotta plan, gotta shop, gotta think days in advance about who's home and how many of us there'll be and what we'll be doing and how much cooking time I'll have...ewwww. Tiring and boring even to think about. I'm hoping desperately assuming this feeling will pass, and I'll become happily fascinated by food? Anyone else experienced that?
It also means paying attention to my feelings. All. The Time. No banishing anger and how'mIgunnagetallthisdone panic and weariness and soreness with sugar and carbs. Ewwww.
But you know what? I was reading a blogthe other day and suddenly, bugger the penny, the fifty cent piece - no, the doubloon! - hit the floor with a clang so mighty it woke the dogs.
LBTEPA OWNS HER STUFF.
I OWN THIS SITUATION. It doesn't own me.
Get me a hot steaming mug of HTFU and my food diary.

 more anon, Pepys!

Heading North

what with the Man Of The House away in Melbourne with his parents it's been a matter of squeezing in workouts where I can - two hours between clients is enough time to finish notes, eat, get to the pool, run on the spot at the deep end for half an hour SO FUN. NOT, and return my appearance to the understated elegance so important in my work hahahaha but really, smelling of chlorine simply wouldn't be the thing. I called in my last babysitting markers with Mum (and promised her Foxtel when she gets to the nursing home) so I could hit the gym tonight. I began my session with a consummate demonstration of Rowing Machine Epic Fail, 44 seconds slower than on Sunday for the same distance and RPE (Rate of Perceived Effort - it's all jargon all the time at the gym you know, must fit in!). SO FUN. NOT. But then there were nice clanky machines to heave around and really not that many mirrors. And the music's not bad. I like to keep up with what the kiddies are listening to.
Unfolded washing situation is becoming dire. J's half of the bed is completely covered!  I'll have to set the alarm early tomorrow so we have things to pack for Sydney! I've never been there (don't faint) and am looking forward to it very much despite the craziness it's taking to get there.

More anon, fast talkers!

Yay for everyone!

It's two years since my last race - Melbourne marathon day!  Yay to all my friends rebuilding their running lives! And yay to the bloke from our tri club who came 58th overall at Kona today! Yay!
J is in Melbourne with his Dad because his mum is in hospital there. It's all a bit of a worry. I'm here at home having spent a very unpleasant spell in front of the mirrors at the gym. Yeah yeah yeah the truth hurts etc etc. But I did surprise the hot young personal trainer with my rowing machine awesomeness, so that's something. He said we might need to count calories to get the results I want, and I said if that's what it took I'd change what I want. I keep a food diary and I'll adhere to the dietary guidelines he has given me, but my head is just about exploding with all the other **** going on in my life at the 'mo; putting a numeric value on my food is not only against my principles but Just Too F***ing Much right now. I feel so overwhelmed that if I didn't have to fold a cubic metre of washing, kid-wrangle and get the place sorted for the work week and (possibly; see 'sick m-i-l', above) a trip to Sydney next weekend, I'd crawl into bed and cry myself to sleep. Don't say ' so just don't fold it' - we were in such a hurry yesterday to get out the door to drive 2 hours to get J his gear so he could go to Melbourne with his parents that we just pulled the washing off the line and dumped it all on the bed.
*Update: I pushed it into baskets on the floor. It can wait.
But I digress.
My goals for the next few months
- do a chin-up
- the Big Bay Swim
- to not have to buy any more work pants in my current (bigger) size. I have a drawer full of hardly-worn dacks!
- get my shoulders flexible enough to join my hands behind my back better than this bloke can

How was your weekend of awesomeness, comrades?

Stuff that shouldn't have upset me but sort of did

At the personal training intro session on Sunday I found out lots of new stuff.
I weigh 92 kg on the gym scales
My upper arms are too big for the gym blood pressure machine. They had to get the medical one out of a special bag in a cupboard.
My blood pressure is 135/85 (about 10 points higher on both systolic and diastolic than last time it was checked)
I seem to have shrunk by 3cm since I was 18
My biological age is apparently 61
I can stop myself from crying in public if I have to.
I drink too much tea. I didn't even know that was possible.
Almonds will probably work better for me as a snack than cashews do.
My trainer wants me to count calories. I am not going to. Food is not numbers.
I can only manage 2 minutes at a time on the elliptical, but if I rest for 30 seconds I can do it again nine more times. 
Still, as the wonderful Lisa points out, "Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can."  (Arthur Ashe)
This all seems very daunting and overwhelming to me, but feelings are not actions. My actions will be about conquering this mountain of unhelpful habits and bodily weakness.
What's the biggest mountain you've ever climbed?

More anon, karabiners!

More anon,

ODTAA

In the interests of not being All Whingeing All the Time I refrained in my last post from mentioning that I took a misstep on Tuesday morning and my back has been giving me absolute curry ever since. It hurts to walk, it hurts to roll over in bed, it hurts to move suddenly, and it hurt like **** to sit for four hours in a bus on our long-planned school holiday trip to Melbourne and walk around Sovereign Hill and the aquarium for two days. Thankyou anti-inflammatories is all I'm saying. The physio said it was all related to the Wobbly Pelvis of Doom, OF COURSE. Prescription: stupid exercises, stretching, and a good dose of HTFU. I'll start my personal training on Sunday as planned, only about 1000000000000 steps further back than I hoped.
But still, worse things happen at sea.

 

More anon, me hearties!