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!

Spoke too soon

So your heroine trotted off to the physio to get some advice about the dodgy achilles so the personal training could all go smoothly and appropriately and she could aim for her goals in a sensible and medically appropriate manner.
You know this is going to end badly, don't you? *cue sinister Jaws-type cello music*
He was very thorough. Damn him (only not really). Tight calves, tight lower back - nothing escaped his eagle eye. Nothing. Especially not the (sing it with me, kids!) horribly unstable pelvis! Yes! Again!
So.
The Plan Is This
Many many reps of stupid tiresome lame-arse what sort of loser can't do that tremendously helpful leg-wiggling exercises designed to finally properly stabilise the Wobbly Core of Doom.
Pool running! Yay! Not.
Rowing machine and cycling! Yay! Really.
No walking or standing (gunna be great fun at the Zoo with Noddie tomorrow. That's what drugs are for)
No running. Well der.
No swimming. There goes my ****ing awesome goal that I was so happy about. ****.
Another day, another setback, eh?
But if there's anything at which LBTEPA excels, it's having a big sook and then getting through setbacks. Bring. It. On.

More anon, big-bang theorists!

The Short Version

I've had about 5 goes at writing this post but I keep getting all show-offy with aren't-I-clever writing and then run out of time and then it's 2 days later and everything's different. So here goes: speed-blogging!

I ummed and errr-ed about a personal trainer.
I went to the gym and to the pool a few times. Nothing bad happened. I have started to feel stronger and more energetic. I like this.
I still can't run. 10 steps on the treadmill and my achilles carries on like a ratty toddler . This is messing with my head. I dreamed I had to have surgery on it nooooooooooooooooooooooo!
but I digress
When J was away for work or working late I sweated it up on the exercise bike and did my core workouts at home (I'm up to Kona 2001 !).
I got a quote to have a cleaner for two hours a week, and decided I could go to the Cook Islands for a week for that kind of money so I'd do it myself*.
I was very ambivalent about this personal trainer thing.
I should be motivated enough to do it myself. What if they're sorry for me or think I'm a whinger? I sound like a whinger to myself! What if it IS too hard to get fit again? What if I can't do it? What if I FAIL?It's a lot of money (not as much as that cleaner though, sheesh!). Is it being a big la-la to want a middle aged lady trainer so there's no possibility of being judged or condescended to by the young hot bloke PT?
On Sunday I put on my togs and packed my pull buoy and towel and goggles and a big heavy pile of ambivalence into my gym bag and headed off. If this young hot bloke PT is on duty at the gym after I've done my laps, I said to myself, I'll talk to him. That way I've talked to all of them. I don't have to make up my mind today.
So I did my laps.
He was on duty.
I start on Sunday!
I'm all excited! I'm a bit nervous and extremely ambivalent (see above; also he's "very strong on nutrition" which could be (ahem) 'a challenge'), but I'm excited! I even have a goal!

More anon, sweaters!

*We ARE going to Cook Islands for a week, in March! Whee!

lemme 'splain

no - ees too much. Lemme sum up.

I am very much aware and grateful that overall I have an awesome life. I am lucky. I am capable and determined and well-resourced. My blog is where I put all the bleaty shit that I need to stop swirling around my head and dragging me down so I can force myself to put on my togs and go to the pool or get out the door for yet another aborted run or stand in front of those bastard mirrors at the gym or line up the 2000 Kona replay and hop on the stupid boring go-nowhere but it'll-have-to-do-when-J-is-working-late bike.
I'm REALLY SAD about how unfit I am and how heavy I am and how all of that plus the ankle reco and the niggly shoulder from the crutches and the painful achilles and the b**** who switched my body-shame up several notches adds up to making rebuilding my fitness a bloody big job, and not one that be approached with have-at-it balls-to-the-wall gung-ho derring-do. Guts and glory won't work here. I have be patient. Take my time. Slow slow slow. Sucking it up. Always sucking it up. Seeing myself in photos and not cringeing. Walking around Melbourne and not going into shoe shops or running shops and squashing the that-used-to-be-me sadness when I see all the runners - and Melbourne is a great place to run; there are runners everywhere. Trying to not feel like a complete failure for some stretches, a few pushups and some core work at 8.45 pm becuase that's all I can bring myself to do after all the day's stuff is done. Sucking up the sadness and shame and doing it. Smiling and staying in touch with my good generous happy-for-you self when everyone else is celebrating their running groups and their 10ks and their tris. Sucking it up when the task seems so very big and feeling good again seems so very far away.
I have thought of a personal trainer, but I need someone who understands very very slow rehab of an overweight (obese if you ask the always accurate and helpful BMI) middle aged endurance athlete. I don't know whether there's anyone around here like that. I need a miracle man* who won't rush me 'cause you know,  you rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles. I'll go to the gym and ask today though. You never know.
I know what to do.
I'm not going to give up.
I will feel strong and fit again one day. If it's medically possible I will run another marathon or several and swim long distances and do triathlons.
I am sucking it up even though the task seems so very big and feeling good again seems so very far away. Almost inconceivable

My name is LBTEPA   you killed my father. prepare to die and I am fat and middle-aged and injured and I am not ever giving up.
More anon, swordsmen!
*or woman

keeping on

even my stretches and core work and a few pushups are better than nothing

Rubik's rehab

is what you call it when everything is so weak and unbalanced that overdoing one thing a teeny bit creates problems elsewhere, to whit: I have a sore achilles tendon. Bugger. Dr G00gle has told me to rest and NSAID like it's my job so  running is off the schedule again. *pout* Still, there's always y0utube: an absolute angel of a person has uploaded every single Kona Ironman special since 1992! Awful hair, high-cut togs and riding through T1, and of course the Ironwar - me and my exercise bike are So There!
Noddie and I are back to the Big Smoke to see her dermatologist at the Children's Hospital on Friday, as the side effects of her psoriasis medication are unacceptable. We'd already planned to see Bang Crash Tap on Saturday so we are just staying up another night. The Zoo, St Kilda Beach, the theatre andpossiblysomeshoppingIadmitnothing Here We Come!!

Gastro

Another one for the ODTAA* files. Bleh
*One Damn Thing After Another 
More anon, acronymers!

4.35

why, you ask, is our heroine blogging at 4.35 a.m? It's becuase I can't sleep. And why is that, you ask? What a lot of sticky beaks you are! LBTEPA is currently not running amok in the land of nod (as opposed to running amok in the Land of Noddie as I usually do hahahah I am so funny) becuase the steroids she is taking for the newly-formed polyps in the Sinuses of Doom only work as painkillers for the first two or three days, after which their function appears to be to cure encephalitis lethargica, in the wee small hours at least, and make your face all red.  I am using a radical state-of-the-art treatment (involving more [disgusting details omitted] than my five faithful readers need to know about) to dissolve the polyps so I shouldn't have to have more surgery but it's early days yet blah blah bleat bleat.

The LBTEPA Department of pre-dawn musings is also running hot becuase I have decided to post more often and I have been getting caught in the it's a bit antisocial to spend so much time in the study when J likes to watch tv together in the evenings thought-that-doesn't-really-make-proper-sense (mind you last night we watched Arrow, a fascinating exploration of moral grey areas (ahem).

The way to be who you want to be is do what that sort of person would do, so I am Using My Time Wisely, blogging and drinking hot milk and honey rather than lying awake with a headache, hot in the face and furious about the election.
Last week I trundled off the the Big Smoke to meet with the sinus surgeon (boo!), and also the ankle surgeon, who never wants to see me again! Yay! Yes, five months post surgery,  All Is Well with the LBTEPA ankle. It'll be weak-ish and swollen for another few months and of course my rebuilding into the Amazon we all knew and loved must be patient and take into account the extra weight I'm carrying blah blah blah yay yay yay I'm all better!!!!!!! And how good is running??And riding your bike? And swimming?!!! I. Love. It. All! But I digress.
Whilst in Melbourne I was lucky enough to dine with the lovely Cilla, which was a hoot. We spoke of deep things and ate fashionable food at a groovy restaurant by the river. I used to go there Back In the Day (I did have a day, really), only it's moved (confusing!) and is kind of ironically we-dare-you-to-say-we're-not-the-same groovy now, which I found hilarious. That could also have been the wine. I admit nothing. I played hooky got the later train back on Friday arvo so I had time to buy some shorts that fit me right now (see: extra weight, also: live in country town = B1g W is exciting that's so sad) before sashaying artistically along to soak up the Australian Impressionists in France. Ankle all better, new shorts and all cultured up - what could be nicer?
It's about time for the stupid wattlebird that sits in the tree outside our window to start its first-light squawking (its other name is the STFU bird) so I think I'll go back to bed now. I have a quiet day at work and I plan to talk the boss into letting me have a swim (she's strict but I can usually get around her :P)
More anon, sleeping beauties

Enough about THAT

LBTEPA's five faithful readers will be pleased to learn that she has officially Let It Go. Mind you if I see that old besom when I'm out and there's a handy semi roaring by it could well be a different story. People shouldn't be gratuitously nasty, but I have gained 15 kg which does put me into the fat category, no denying it. These things happen. So if people see 'fat', that's accurate. If they see 'fabulous and beautifully dressed' or 'brave and determined' as well, then they're paying proper attention and good for them. And if they don't, f*** 'em.

Oh my friends, so many cool things have happened since last I posted! now that I am allowed up and down ladders again (yayyayyay!) the last outpost of soul-sucking donkey beige has finally been banished from my house.

Noddie went to Book Week as Cleopatra, becuase I reckon the window of opportunity to muck around with crushed velvet and rickrack is closing fast so I'm going to make the most of it

My physio has told me that it's over between us!! WOOT!!! Yes, I have been sent out alone into the cold cold snow (as it were), aka I'm better enough to be let loose without supervision. WOOTWOOTWOOT!!! Of course I must be patient and cautious blahblahblah but I can pretty much do what I want now, which means no more deep water running ever ever EVER.
I'm either swimming, riding or running five or six times a week - I feel almost like a real athlete again! Such A Great Feeling. My current favourite quote:

'training is like fighting a gorilla. You don't stop when YOU"RE tired. You stop when the GORILLA is tired'

Since I've been 'signed off' medically I've been able to walk Noddie to school again, which is not only a really nice mum-kid time but another 8-10km a week on the legs.  My fave 'new' motivational strategy is probably so blindingly obvious that you clever chaps out in the interwebs do it without even thinking about it, but I will share it anyway: put the gear on early! If I plan to go swimming after I walk Noddie to school, then I'll wear my togs and some fleecies for the walk. If I plan to run before lunch on Sunday, then as soon as I get home from church I'll strap myself into the sports bra. It's mildly embarrassing to change out of exercise clothes when you haven't actually exercised. Every bit of incentive helps, don't you think? Mind you a master procrastinator could find herself at 2.30 in the afternoon still in her togs and fleecies with barely enough time for a swim before the afternoon school run. I admit nothing.
What quotes inspire you? And what 'tricks' do you use to get out the door to exercise?
More anon, empresses!

....and a lovely day to you too, b****

I was out running this morning - more on the general state of awesomeness of things in another post; suffice it to say I've had a lot of extra washing of exercise clothes to do lately  - and had stopped to stretch my calf when an old lady in a motorised wheelchair thingy trundled up
Doing that'll cost you a lot of money she said
Pardon? quoth I (all I could think of, in my innocence, was this top comes from Kmart - but little did I know...)
Well you've obviously spent a lot of money putting on all that weight and now you're going to waste it
*brief pause whilst images of her being trampled beneath a ravening mongol horde flit through the dumbfounded LBTEPA noggin*
You're very rude. Go away.
Well good luck to you anyway dear
*sound of teeth grinding as only LBTEPA's superb upbringing prevents her from pushing the old harpy under a passing ute*

 I've spent the day catching sight of myself in windows and wondering is that what people see? I feel a bit unsettled. It'll wear off, I'm sure, but I was just so gobsmacked at her thoughtless nastiness.
Bitch.
I'm going to the pool tomorrow in my fierce new black togs. Anyone of normal eyesight and judgemental mind can SUFFER.
Roooaaarrrrr!!!!!

More anon, khans!

things that make you go hmmmm

....struggling with this a little bit at the moment...
but staying patient and working hard, for that is the LBTEPA way. Run 1 minute, walk 1 minute. 30 minutes, twice a week. Pool, bike, weights. Little and often is how I will get strong again.
I had this fab plan that from now on I am going to get up early and work out becuase trying to summon the oomph for a bit of righteous sweating at 8.30pm is more than I am up for at the 'mo. So last night I slept horribly badly, but I went out for a (ahem) 'run' this morning did you see that? "for a run" all casual-like as though that was some normal thing wow anyway because I decided that fresh-aired and exercised and tired and crabby was better than just tired and crabby. While I was out I met the old bloke I always used to high-five back in the good old days. We were very pleased to see each other.
After this morning I would also like to thank the town planning gods for making it almost compulsory to plant plum trees as street trees. Avant gardeners (hahaha I am so funny) like my Mum think they are ever so passe, but they call to me happily that winter is over. Spring is coming!

 More anon, blossoms!

One day

I kept it all on the straight and narrow for 11 days. Walking, swimming, running (squee! running!!), cycling after dark with my flashing light clipped to my shorts - flashing my bum just doesn't sound right, does it? - becuase the day's crazy left 8.30-9.00 as the only free time...it all happened for eleven days straight becuase I made it happen. And it was good. Then yesterday I took Team LBTEPA out for dinner to celebrate the new business - which I absolutely could not run without them - hitting an amazing financial milestone astonishingly quickly, and the exercise didn't happen.

Today, my five faithful readers, it will. I'll help Noddie with her piano practice and fold the washing and finish my case notes and THEN I WILL WALK.
Eleven schmeleven I say
rrrrROOOAAARRRR!!!!!

More anon, Pleistocenes!
*EDIT: I DID IT. Case notes went unfinished and the washing is still blocking the laundry door in a big tiresome pile, but I went out and walked. Let the next streak commence

well there's not much happening here Bruce (2013 edition)

Well there’s not much happening here, Bruce, the crowd is getting a bit restless….but hang on – what’s that?
Look Tim – a sight we didn’t think we’d see for quite some time – a heartwarming sight – a sight built on determination and courage....
Please stop talking such bullshit Bruce - now listeners, from the broadcast box here we can just see through the tunnel leading into the stadium – the crowd have just got the feed on the big screen and they’re rising to their feet screaming in delight as a small figure...
What? What? Who is it? What’s she doing?
...a small figure, dwarfed by this mighty stadium, the site of so many dreams and triumphs…..
if you don’t tell me right now Tim I will biff you one
...she’s lifting her knees
...her shoulders are back and her head is held high
...she’s breathing easily and grinning from ear to ear, oh this is an emotional moment Tim
here’s a hanky for you Bruce now get on with it

...it’s LBTEPA

....and she’s RUNNING!!!

oh this is a great day Bruce, such a happy day, a day we thought might never come.... give me that hanky


and the crowd goes wild!!!!!


More anon, invincibles!

falling through the week

Gosh that went by quickly. Since last we spoke I packed for Melbourne, lunched with a friend and roared off to the big smoke with the family, all whist feeling like death warmed up but only very slightly, found a kind and helpful walk-in doctor with a charming and helpful receptionist ah, I remember helpful doctors and charming receptionists, those were the days..., shopped for new boots in Acland Street becuase I ACCIDENTALLY no really left mine at home and I'm all about problem-solving, dozed the afternoon away while the Very Strong Antibiotics I was prescribed becuase I was Really Very Sick (see this raised middle digit, mean stupid doctor I saw on Thursday? It's for YOU) started to work their magic, dined at a restaurant with a magic tree in the middle of the dining table

see?

brunched with The Mighty Emma who was by some miracle in the same city at the same time, attended the thea-tah (totes hilair, darls), zoomed back home, saw my clients for the week and sketched out the barest semblance of looking after Noddie and the Spousal Unit whilst spending every possible moment as rugged-up and close to horizontal as could be managed. Ask me how I know that the Bad Mother Police don't come if you give your kid re-heated spinach rolls for tea two nights in a row.
I was going to cancel my physio appointment  becuase I've done bugger all - it is hard to do core work when your head nearly falls off when you move it, and cardio is tricky when you're coughing up stuff the consistency of blu-tac (too much information? Sorry) blah blah blah excuses excuses - but then I thought I could use the session to get back onto the right track - as a re-set button, if you will. Luckily my physio combines sternness, no-more-excuses-please and kindness in the nicest possible way so I didn't cry.
Now LBTEPA is vertical again, thanks to the miracles of modern doctors who actually give a shit enough to listen medicine, and The Plan is This: another streak! If I keep it up for four weeks, I reckon I'll be a Person Who Exercises again, as opposed to my current identity as a bleating, carb-powered couch cushion. I'll be riding that endorphin train, my friends, and my resting heart rate and lung capacity will be back on that road to righteousness. It'll be great. It's going to happen. You watch.
In the spirit of Yoda

exercise Every Single Day for the next month I will.
....mind you

.....I'm so confused....
but in the meantime, tally ho!!! Charge!!!!!!!!!!
What are your bold plans for the next season?

More anon, metaphor-manglers!

well

DR: if your job exposes you to the public you can get a cold every two weeks, and if your colds are susceptible to developing into painful viral sinusitis, that's just the luck of the draw. A referral to an immune specialist or your sinus surgeon won't change that. There's nothing we can do until there's green or yellow mucus. Except maybe panadol.
LBTEPA: Oh. Thanks (I'm polite).

I can imagine

So: yesterday, a very brisk walk (by my current standards) in a well-lit, even-surfaced area sans Noddie, hoons and the stupid dog. All good although sadly puffed by the end.
Today I Went To The Gym! My body image issues, shame and sadness and I may have had a little sniffle in the car before I went in but I was soon BOUNDING AWAY ON THE ELLIPTICAL WITH MY HEART RATE AT 145 OMG HOW GOOD DOES THAT FEEL? so I forgot about it all, to the point where, when the whippersnapper gym attendant asked me how I was coping(!)* I replied, fine thank you, and how about you?**
Then I played this song at full blast all the way home while I had a big happy sook. Note to self: either stop being so emotional or keep tissues in the car

After my last post, I was reminded of something very important by  the lovely K, one of my five faithful readers. I am getting stronger. I will run again. My athletic life is not over. My head sort of knew that, but I just haven't been able to imagine it.
Now I can.
And I have. It's 454 days until next year's Melbourne Marathon. I'm going to do it.
More anon, dreamers!
* I explained to Noddie that some people see a fat middle-aged woman dripping with sweat and assume that she is struggling, but this is basing a conclusion on insufficient data. She hates that bwahahahaha
** given that it was his first offence I have spared his life