It's from this effbee post, https://www.facebook.com/blockedbypete/photos/a.1508623146067119.1073741828.1508618869400880/1769017513361013/?type=3
with which I am also enamoured, containing as it does absolutely no effing judgmental oversimplifications.
I'm loving Being an Athlete. This weekend I have had a tap dancing lesson from Noddie, which will never be on y0utube, thank goodness, and also walked home along the river with her from the Sunday market. That's what fits in with LIFE at the 'mo. It's all good!
More anon, paradigm-shifters!
It's been a quiet week here at Lake LBTEPA...not. Noddie turned 13!!!!! I don't know, turn around for a second and your kid grows up!
(that's her on the left. The rather astoundingly tall one)
She is becoming a wonderful young person, chockers with heart and brains and guts. The shift to another dance school where they know the difference between 'tough love' and harshness has been great for her and is totally worth the considerable extra drive time.
I'm spending a lot of time shouting at "discussing things" with people whose mission in life appears to be making my poor Mum's goal of getting my Dad into care before his personality/cognitive issues bankrupt them as difficult as possible. Let's not even mention the local hospital's "if you're polite, helpful and competent you can piss off" hiring policy. Bastards.
But I digress.
My five faithful readers will be happy to know that the LBTEPA thyroid is now getting the right amount of medication and is on the mend. It's been bung for decades, poor thing, and I really should take better care of it. Another thing to add to 'project adulting'. Energy and good cheer are now available on tap, as opposed to summoned by force of will! It's good.
I realised the other day that I've been going about my health and fitness completely arse backwards. I've been perceiving it in terms of 'doing' things (races, tris, goals), which has led to a focus on what I can't do - the huge gap and the innumerable obstacles between Here and There. Daunting? Discouraging? Oh yes!
But then it occurred to me - I need to BE before I DO. I am an athlete. I need to BE an athlete. So the question is, how to be an athlete, no matter what's going on in LIFE?
An athlete:
- mightn't (because of LIFE) necessarily have a goal (although she mostly prefers to have one) and can be (sort of) ok with that
- thinks about what she eats. She minimises comfort eating and sees food as fuel+enjoyment
- doesn't equate weight with 'success'
- thinks about her posture
- focuses on the enjoyment of movement
- doesn't waste time guilt-tripping
- doesn't waste time comparing herself with others OR her former self
- sets things up so it's easier to exercise than not
- seeks to get stronger and stronger
- keeps tweaking things and Finding A Way
- does what she can, when she can.
- catches herself making excuses and calls bullshit on them
- just keeps moving Now to print this out for the fridge so I can memorise it.....
More anon, groovers!
The other day I was a bit off colour and since I had to organise my pap smear as well, because I'm such an adult, I popped in to visit the GP. We also organised all the blood tests that you have to have to stay in tip-top nick if you're a proper adult...including my thyroid, which has been exceptionally dodgy for over twenty years...and which I hadn't had checked for over two years #epicadultingfail.
Let's just say the normal range of thyroid simulating hormone (the stuff that kickstarts the thyroid) is usually 3-5 and mine was 75 and leave it at that, shall we? Given that the thyroid affects mood, energy and weight, I am in the running for Prize Nong of 2016. Oh well. I've always said that if you can't be a good example be a dire warning! Keep up with your blood tests, people!
So, the next week: the week I walked 21.1km about an hour faster than
I expected, and rode that mojo all the way through the Fear Wall.
I
really only did the half mara becuase I couldn't get a refund on the
hotel - I'd been away from home for five weekends in a row and I wasn't
expecting anything much. I was just happy I could be out there and
re-visit the MCG and get some bling. I like bling.
It was fun to
go through all the nutrition and hydration plans of My Old Life. I was
grateful to be certain I could walk that far. I woke up feeling good,
and I decided the approach would be 'not comfortable'. If I felt
comfortable, I had to go harder. I was so pleased that I could hold my
concentration and my pace - kms were consistent to 5sec except for when I
had to make my way through 5000 5km runners coming through the course
in the opposite direction, but let's not go there - and I felt happy that I was strong enough to sweat it up for hour after hour. Fight Song
came on the 1p0d and I got a bit teary - f*** you injuries and weight
gain and bereavements and f*** you always feeling overwhelmed and f***
you depression - I thought you took EVERYTHING. But not so! I'm still
REALLY STRONG and this is A GREAT DAY.
I didn't wear a watch, so I
was utterly gobsmacked and beyond thrilled to see 3.39 on the clock -
I'd been expecting well over four hours! Stupid Determination IS a
substitute for training! My finish line videos and photos show this
crazy grinning person who looks like Dumbo crossed with the Tin Man but
they're clearly wrong - I was floating. I was a f***ing superhero. I was
SO HAPPY.
Gosh I felt sorry for the chick who had to sit next to me on the bus on the way home. Unless she liked sweaty snoring.
The
spell of the bling was obviously upon me when I decided to ride this
wave of mojo all the way into the beach and take on the Scariest Thing
In The World - I told effbee I was going to do the local mini-tri!
Without going into too much detail, even thinking about these events
has been an abyss of fear, shame, and sadness for me. After I posted
that I was going, I nearly cried. I felt sick all day. I nearly made
myself late but The Spousal Unit was across that and had my bike and my
bag on the verandah ready for me. I rode off, wishing I could get lost
(it's 2km from my house) or forget how to ride or something.
Of
course it was fine! Lots of people I knew were there, and seemed
genuinely pleased to see me. They were not the hateful tormentors of
yore. It was quite fun! The bike felt much better than I expected. My
approach to the (ahem) "run" (equal counts walk/run) was 'stay
uncomfortable'. No excuses. No extra walks. It's not far. I was a little
bit distracted by kind Jacinta (is this your very first tri?) but she was being friendly and ran most of the way with me.
Last Wednesday I broke out of the prison of my own fearful thoughts and I'm never going back there.
Two weeks in October 2016 will go down in (my personal) history as The Weeks That Fixed My Life. They Changed Everything.
The first was, of course, the week my darling Bulldogs Won The Big One and re-wrote my life story. The second was last week, when I had the Second Best Day Ever walking a half marathon and then four days later crashed through all my fears like an action hero through sugar glass. This article sums it all up beautifully I think - especially first few paragraphs Sixty-two years of misery told every Bulldogs fan that the ball was going to bounce left. For so long, failure was a desert, and hope was a series of poisoned oases........ for more than half a century the team’s lone identity was failure......
And more than anything, the Bulldogs lost. They lost games, seasons and players, they lost the competition’s respect, and they lost hope..........
Why did Tony Liberatore’s match-sealing goal get called a behind in the ’97 preliminary final? Why did Chris Grant poll the most votes in the Brownlow medal that same year when he was ineligible?
The same simple reason: because bad things happen to the Bulldogs.....
If you grow up in a family/micro culture where your team is your tribe, this stuff shapes you. You learn that loyalty is all you have. Success and delight are for other clubs. You get really, really sick of 'the glory of struggle', but there's nothing else to do. I don't think anyone gets 'good' at disappointment. You get good at being resigned, and forcedly lowering your expectations, and loving your club even though they're crap, and at being quietly BITTER. It seeps into other areas of your life. I'm always quite surprised (and absolutely delighted) when things I've worked for go well. It's difficult and scary to Dream Big - and then when you've had a rough-ish spell over a few years, you almost forget how.
On the converse, however, if you are clever, you learn to notice and be very grateful and happy about very little things, which is a wonderful tool for a happy life! So there you go!
And another thing: people feel sorry for you when you follow the Bulldogs. I utterly LOATHE being felt sorry for. It's one of the reasons it's been very hard to return to racing as a fat person. If you kindly tell me that the Bulldogs are your 'second team', I secretly hate you (probably).
I plan and prepare and work hard and maybe don't aim as high as I should, because I have never had any reason to expect things to happen just because I want them to. They. Never. Ever. Do.
UNTIL NOW!!!!
We are the Champions, my friend! WOOF WOOF WOOF!!
As Captain Bob Our Spiritual Advisor wrote : the Western Bulldogs are ...a family. But like all families there is pain, hurt and damage done from the hard years. Too many hard years.
All of a sudden, so many years of heartbreak and longing...are behind us. The sunshine....has broken through the clouds, warming the faces of the clan.
Oh, how good it is to be in the sun! This all sounds utterly stupid, I realise, and it is, but the world changed when we won. It changed forever! The siren went, and the huge roar vibrated through the mass of the MCG and through our bones, and somehow, like some corny fairytale movie, life was different for the tens of thousands of loyal, brave, not-very-hopeful, elated-beyond-measure diehard Doggies who'd dared to show up in case the unbelievable happened. Sometimes things do go our way. Who knew?
PS I KNOW, I KNOW #firstworldproblem!!! But this is my blog and it's where I reflect on my little world.
*takes short break to watch the last three minutes of the game again*
I could focus on the fact that I'm no closer to fitness than I was several months ago - but not much further away from it either, I suppose, so there's that - and have done very very little training, and my foot hasn't really settled down properly blah blah blah blah.
Instead, I'm focusing on the fact that I have no doubt that I will be able to walk 21.1 km on Sunday at the Melbourne Marathon. That's a Very Good Thing. So that's what I'll be doing. See you on the other side with the bling!
More anon, amblers!
During our recent somewhat traumatic week at the eisteddfodau, during which we came to the conclusion that not only would Noddie no longer dance with her Idon'tthinkferalistoostrongaword duo partner, but also that we would remove her from the dance school altogether and take her to one in another town - blatant favouritism disgusts me, AND I know the difference between 'tough love' and actual damaging ABUSE even if her teacher doesn'tdon'tgetmestartedthewomanisafuckingmenace - Noddie and I began a routine of daily stretching together. By 'stretching together', do picture a lithe 12yo dancer blithely impersonating our green friend above, and by her side her creaky overweight middle-aged mum bitching about the pain, the pain..... but we do it nearly every day, and it's sort of fun. It's certainly doing me good. It's probably some kind of bonding thing too, and you're meant to do that with your kids, I hear.
My next post may be a reflection on how my darling Bulldogs' Grand final win will change my life. How does one approach living when chronic disappointment and existential pessimism is no longer a valid world-view??
I can't really say I've been 'fixing my life' or 'doing everything better' this month. It's all fallen in a rather unimpressive heap, to be honest. But there you go. Part of the road back is learning to maintain focus when life gets noisy. There's still a bit of September to go. Cede nullis is my motto! Yield to none!
I was a teeny bit disappointed to note on gmap pedometer that my 10k walk was actually 9.3k, but still, I did it about 15min faster than two weeks ago!!!, including a substantial loo break and the effects of a few injudicious sherbies while watching Pirates of the Caribbean last night.
I let the 1p0d set the pace, adding 30s run at the end of each song - but get this! I ran non-stop for two full songs at the end! More than six minutes! By mistake this was, I thought I was closer to the car than I actually was, but once I'd got started I wasn't stopping, no no no no no no. It's a long time since I've had the nerve (or the wind) to do that. Woot!
More anon, treasure hunters!
Alas it has not been a quiet week at Lake LBTEPA. Last week my dad was rushed to hospital with an episode of delirium (still there, home tomorrow probably), which has led to the discovery of some clear indications of ongoing extremely poor judgment, so Mum and I have been catapulted pell-mell into the world of daily morning doctor chases, arguments with bitch-faced bank tellers, and the daunting organising of post-acute care arrangements, carer's allowances, support services, and powers-of-attorney.
All close enough to sorted now so I think Mum will be ok.
However - see, I do get to the point eventually! - I was thinking that I wish I could get a clear run with no dramas so I can really bed down my eating and exercise habits. They're hanging in there with only a few wobbles, I'm happy to say, but not as consistently as I would ideally like.
*sad face*
Then it occurred to me that THIS IS HOW IT WILL ALWAYS BE. LIFE HAS DRAMAS. Exercise and good eating can't only happen when things are going well!!!! Just writing that makes me want to smack myself upside of the head. How freakin' obvious. LBTEPA you are an idiot.
Oh well.
I think I have to do with a bit less sleep. I'm tending to wake very early in a bit of a worrywash, then doze and tell myself I'll get up when J gets up at 6, whereupon I fall so deeply asleep that I don't hear him go and don't wake until it's time to get into the business of the day. I think I'm going to have to get up at 6 no matter what. The thing that is working is the meal planning - I write a list of what we're going to eat, and then a shopping list, so when I get home the Spousal Unit has been able to make an approximation of what I'd like, rather than his default fried-with-cheese. Oh the conflicts this weekend half-hour has prevented! Project '4 alcohol-free-days or pay up' is also working well. So that's actually some quite some big changes I'm maintaining. Go me. But it is the LBTEPA way to Aim High, so there will be no resting on these minor laurels.
What are your 'get it done' practices? What works for you so exercise and self-care is embedded in your life?
Today was d-day as to whether my feet are recovered enough to deal with the extra distance training for the Melbourne half-marathon in October.
I walked 10km at 'not comfortable' pace along the river, and it went very well. Very very well! No plantar fascia pain, no achilles niggles, nothing! I am so happy I cannot describe it to you.
I have a great life, and I try to be a cheerful person as a rule - stop laughing! - but this is one of the happiest days I've had this whole year.
More anon, jig-dancers!
Hi All! Are you loving the Olympics? Here at Chateau LBTEPA it's All Sport, All The Time right now, and as one having the odd bout of insomnia lately, it's even better as I can watch the 'unexciting' morning events, like the rowing heats, that don't make the highlights packages!
But I digress. I had a brilliant idea last week! I've shared it with the fam and the cheer squad, who have approved of it heartily. As you know, your heroine is (ahem) a little bit prone to excessive permission language when it comes to wine. In short, too many excuses too often. So I have stated publicly that if I have fewer than 3 alcohol-free days each week for the next month, I will donate $150 to either M1chelle Br1dges aka fat-shaming, evidence-free, B1ggest Loser 'coach', or the Minister for Immigration, who, if there is any justice whatsoever in the universe, will rot in hell for his vicious crimes against refugees seeking safety in our country. A bit of an incentive, what? I can see myself building on it as weeks go by....if I don't get up early or skip too many workouts, I have to cough up....but for now I'll stick with loathing as an encouragement to abstinence.
In other news, Noddie taught me an excruciating adductor stretch which appears to have fixed my plantar fascia!!!!! I'm cautiously optimistic, which is much better than forced hopefulness.
I'm also crushing on the rowing machine at the gym. I'm so fickle.
Sorry to be disloyal to the Aussie competitor but I saw this bloke row this morning he is a god.
A week of a lurking cold, far more client hours than normal, low mood, cold weather, niggly foot - this is VERY upsetting and I MUST sort out some strategies for dealing with my emotional responses to it - have produced some Unhelpful Thoughts in the LBTEPA noggin. Along the lines of, I'm tired and gloomy, another day off won't hurt, I slept badly, yes I will have that wine thanks. It's not just me has weeks like this? Well, Captain Picard put it best!
I'll be spinning or walking tonight. Bugger the wind. Everyone goes off track. The trick is noticing, sooner and sooner, and veering back.
More anon, astrolabers!
5 catch ups with friends
4 walks
4 alcohol-free days
2 bike trainer workouts aka victories of character over sloth
1 not home-cooked dinner
0 swims epic fail must do better
Kms of skirting board painted - 10000 why are there SIX doors leading off the corridor, WHY?
Plantar fascia - niggly and a constant worry but stable and tolerating very slow loading
Mood - good
Home again, jiggety jig.
Shaken but not stirred, our heroine is sleeping better and not so jumpy. I need a badge: 'does not cope well with conflict'.
I'm loving just swimming again - the fact that I can now go to the pool without dreading it is hereby noted as the first triumph of the 2016-17 financial year! Mind you, I pick my times very carefully, but that's how things Get Done, no? There's an open water swim in September I have my eye on.
This morning there was quite a funny battle between hurry up get your shoes on you've only just got time for your walk and I'll just do some Important Things so I don't have time then be mad at myself. The washing is still blocking the laundry door; the walk was good :)
I've been reflecting on my Top Secret Big Scary Goals, and reminding myself that playing the odds is the only way - if I keep working, I have a chance at success, however small. If I listen to the BS in my head and keep putting things off, then I have no chance. Things will stay the same. Ewww.
On the sixth day of the 'holidays'*, Bendigo gave to me
two eisteddfodau
four brisk walks
one swim workout
dai-ly stretching
no stress eating!!
(sadly, angry drinking)
six days of wrangling dancers
fifteen solos
three duo performances
(while the other mum sat watching)
one day of being attacked by the other mum for upsetting her kid by 'being too controlling' (you have to sing this one pretty fast)
one massive row
one dummy spit
(see 'angry drinking')
one abrupt departure
one kid to manage!
so much lovely dancing
...and lots and LO-OTS of bling
I am so happy for Noddie. A huge amount of hard work went into these :)
More anon, (ahem) 'holidaymakers'*
*This post's other name is 'what I did on my (ahem) 'week off'.
I realised the other day that I was seeing missed workouts as failures rather than completed workouts as successes. No wonder it's been hard!
But I've solved the problem! I've found myself a peer group! A mutual cheer squad! A struggling, knocked-around-by-life, cheerful, indomitable little band with Big Dreams and hope in our hearts!
D is an old school friend I've kept very loosely in touch with. While his wife was dying of brain cancer he coped with food and beer and tv. Now he's picking himself up and starting The Man Challenge! Go Dazza go!
The other person is my dear friend the Might Emma. She has so often picked me up and given me a shove in the right direction; I would absolutely not have finished my last half marathon without her by my side. Now it's my turn! Go Emma go!
I'm so excited!
Rescue Remedy! Coming soon to a swimming bag near you - or to be precise, near me!
I don't know what's in these little gems, unicorn sweat probably, or rare endangered herbs gathered at midnight on the solstice by unwashed wearers of dreadlock-and tie-dye. Ewww. But they got me through three eisteddfodau in a week last year; Noddie, although she may not realise it, is still alive to tell the tale becuase of them and their little yellow friend the spray. Surely they will help with pool-related freak-outs.
Off to the chemist now, to stock up then splash down!
