Good running, sore legs

This week all happened the way it was meant to training wise, with the small hiccup of Anzac Day.  The training went something like this:

Sunday 8km run with Simon
Monday 6km morning run around the harbour (yes, Sydney Harbour!!! Was AWESOME!!)
Tuesday 6km morning run - again around the harbour, and again, was awesome.
Wednesday 8km walk.  Ok ok it was a pub crawl around Balmain.  But there was lots of walking.  And hills.  And beer.
Thursday.  Licking pub crawl wounds, feeling slightly sorry for self.  No training.
Friday.  Matthew the mad personal trainer weights session plus 20 mins intervals on the tready
Saturday.  20km in the National Park with Becky.

Plus every day 20 mins walking up Blues Point Road and 20 mins walking down.  Succumed to doing it in my gymshoes with my suit once only, decided I looked like a twat and surrendered to my bunions on the second day.  Or my potential bunions.  Or corns.  Or whatever they are called. 

So all in all pretty happy with how this week has panned out. 

I'm loving the PT sessions and have booked a second one for each week.  I'm embracing all the stairs and hills in my local area, although my legs are feeling very very sorry and sore today, as they are no longer used to this kind of palaver.  Stood in the icy water in the causeway after today which was fine until I went into the butchers in Glenbrook leaving a trail of dripping water on his clean floor. 

Tomorrow is an evening run with Simon then up bright and early to the city on Monday with a plan to drive in running gear, dump car, do run, then have shower etc and walk up big hill to work.  Should all work out ok if I leave at 5am.  Getting into the swing of a routine now, which feels good.  Also getting through some of the study, which also feels good.  On track!!

Farrrrrrrrkkkk

So.  I moved into my little city apartment.  God it was good going home on the first night, I was able to finish a late meeting, still go back to the office and check my emails, get my eyebrows waxed, go to the supermarket, go to Aldi (more about that later) and the newsagents and still get home before 7pm with the added benefit of a 20 minute cardio session (and a fecking resistance session after I hawked my dirty gym clothes, my shopping, my bottle of Grey Goose Vodka, my laptop and my handbag, full of newly purchased shampoo) down the hill. 

Then I got all the stuff organised in my new little home and moved things and then got tired of doing stuff and sat down and read the Who Horrorscope. Which says something nostalgic will happen this week and it will be nice.  So that's good then.

Training.  Well.  Am I feeling smug or what?  Three runs this week - all with Simon - 2 x 8km and 1 x 5km.  One spin class.  One PT session with the humble yet bloody awesome Matthew and lots of walking up and down Blues Point Road in high heels.  Which doesn't really count.  So my legs have that "sore but happy" feeling and I am not sure there is any better feeling when you start to feel your fitness coming back and you are plotting how to get your next run in.  And you know it is serious when you dust off the garmin that has sat idle for about six months, and find the charger under a pile of fake hairpieces you last wore in 1972 and you ACTUALLY CHARGE THE DAMN THING.  That's how you know you are starting to take it seriously again.  Next thing I will be entering stupid races.....  Anyway the plan was to stay home tonight and drive to the city in the morning, but that means no run in the morning, and I am keen to discover the foreshore in the early morning, so I will slip off tonight with my cushions and my lamps and my $12.99 coffee percolator ($12.99!!  can you believe that??) and my faux fur throw....you get the idea.  I have been picking up cute little inexpensive things to make it look warm and appealing and MINE. 

But now, I have to get my mosh on.  Curts band are playing a gig in the salubrious suburb of Blacktown later, so I have the black eyeliner on, an outfit that would be deemed appropriate for the moshpit, and EARPLUGS.

Oh and bought tickets for The Darkness!!!  As my good friend Pauly said "cock rock at its best..."

Put your arms around me....your dinner lady arms.....

Stuff

Starting to panic about changing my life so radically.  Get the keys Thursday.  Farrrk!  But really excited too.  In the sunshine the harbour is a fab place to be.  Today it poured and you couldn't even see the Bridge for the drizzle.  A cold, lonely flat on such a night maybe is not such a great prospect....

Anyway - I have decided to sort out my makeup and make two identical piles, one for home, one for the city.  Major Project.  I need a project manager, a Gantt Chart and a process map.  Next I plan to decide on which dresses to take.  Life can get so complicated.  And I've realised I cannot live without a blender or a percolator.  So there are more purchases to be had.  And do I carry all my perfume around in a basket in my car, because there is no knowing what smell I might want to be from one day to the next. 

So I googled "living in two houses" which were all along the lines of divorced dads and letting the kids have their favourite toys at one home.  It's kinda the same but not quite.  One website nattily suggested I take my entire spice rack and decant each jar into two jars.  Hello?  As if. 

Luckily John mentioned dresses and knickers, because I was so fixated on makeup, toiletries and makeup removal items I would have been likely to rock up on Thursday night with no clean undies and nothing to wear the next day.  Which would have been a terrible disaster, only ameliorated by an impromptu shopping session.  And I don't think they sell my particular brand of knickers in North Sydney. 

And I have been stressing about where I will get my Voodoo "Moondance" stockings in the big smoke.  I know EXACTLY where they reside in the Penrith Branch of Myer, but I've no idea about the city.  This is all going to be one big adventure. 

I checked out the veggie shop below our building today in more detail.  The problem is all the fancy, exciting things they sell, unlike Woolies Penrith Plaza that do your bog standard coffee, tea, nuts and bread.  This place has things I've never heard of, all kinds of exotic looking packages and boxes and thank god I will have to carry them all down the hill or else I"ll be spending a fortune and turn into a big fat cow.  And the idea is to use the extra 17 and a half hours exercising, sleeping or studying and not scoffing my face with international delicacies. 

On the fitness front I have run two nights in a row again with Simon, which has been great.  He is great company so we will have to keep making time to run together when I am here.  I like how we are running together now but soon he will be too fit again, and I will be too slow, so I guess it is good whilst it lasts.  I have a pump session planned tomorrow at North Sydney gym and then Friday with Matthew the personal trainer.  So a good week of exercise this week.  The only problem today has been I could have eaten a small dog and for the last six or eight weeks I have really managed my hunger and haven't craved food at all....except today.  I was just hungry all day and I suspect the 8km last night was to blame.  So tonights run we pulled it back a bit to about five km and then did some weights.  I need to find a distance that works but doesn't make me want to eat my own armpit.

It's never simple, is it?

Change!!!

Yesterday I finally got to use one of the personal training sessions I got when I joined the gym.  Matey has been ringing me for about six weeks now trying to pin me down to booking a session.  Every time he's rung I've either been drunk, asleep or in a meeting (or all three) so finally he pinned me down  Over the last two weeks I have been running with Simon again.  I love running with him because he keeps me honest and pushes me in a way that is very subtle - and of course we are busy chatting and giggling and so if it is a bit uncomfortable, I don't really notice that much because we are outside and in the fresh air and having a laugh.  The other good thing is that his fitness is shite too at the moment, so we are both in the "getting back into it" stage, rather than the "totally fit and could run for miles" stage.  Who am I kidding, I have never been at the I could run for miles stage...but you get the idea.  Anyway, running is fab, and the idea of a PT session was a bit ho hum - I wasn't all that enthusiastic, and just getting the time out from work can be stressful in itself.

So when I turned up to meet Matthew, my new trainer, I was in my stubborn little "we'll do this my way" mindset.  Hahahahaha.  So he tells me to hop on the treadmill and we can chat about "what I want to achieve" and so I let him have it.  No, we are not going to sit down and talk about my goals, no, I don't want you to try and sell me more sessions, no, you don't have to do an assessment to see how well I can do a clean and press and by the way matey, we are not here for a chat, I want to walk away feeling like I have worked out.  So lets get on with it.  Matthew had a little chuckle and asked if it would be ok in that case to just do some high intensity interval training.  I was over the moon at that suggestion and said, yes please.  So we did 20 minutes of alternating between sprints and walking on the treadmill.  So far so good.  He turned it up so fast I thought I was going to come flying off the back of it, but once I got into the rhythm it was really good.  Then he said we would do a weights circuit and so we did around ten exercises without a break, about seven times.  Which was all fine until I got the headspins and my eyes went funny and I went crosseyed and I thought I was going to pass out.  By this stage we were talking and laughing and were best friends, which is just as well because after my hoity toity start with Matthew it could have gone horribly wrong.  Anyway, I really didn't want to say anything because I asked for a tough session, but when my vision started to go funny and I really thought I was going to faint,  I had to ask him for permission to sit down and collect myself.  Which was rather embarrassing.  He was very nice about it and didn't bring up my earlier attitude but I did tell him "you win". ...  To which he laughed heartily.  Within about two minutes I was fine and we had a nice cool down on the tready and I have already signed up for next weeks session.  And yes, I really did feel like I'd done a good workout.  I have a new best friend.

The other really good news is I have now got myself a place in North Sydney to live during the week.  (And judging by the location, I suspect at the weekend as well....).  I've been grumbling about the commute for ages now....it can take up to four hours a day on trains, and to be honest, I get tired.  In the summer it really isn't that bad, but last winter was quite horrible, cold, windy train stations at very early hours, numb feet, smelly sardine eating commuters, you name it, it's happened.  It's fair to say that commuting in the winter sucks.   So - I asked my lovely employers for a pay rise - enough to cover a nice flat in the city.  And guess what?  They gave me it!  And so I have found a little apartment in McMahons Point (right on the harbour, with views of the Harbour Bridge and Luna Park from the windows) and I sign the lease next Friday!  I can't wait!!!  Walking up Blues Point Road from the harbour after I had viewed the property was what sold it.  It is right in the middle of a big busy city but it is so peaceful and quiet and the birds were singing and it just felt right.  So now I will have a ten minute walk to work and I can run in the mornings and go to the gym after work, and get about on ferries and catch taxis and go to supermarkets without trolleys and car parks and see what it is like to live in the middle of a big city as opposed to suburbia.  Can't wait!!!

Twice is not a habit but it's getting there....

Two morning runs in a row with Simon.  Two fantastic mornings.

Truly the best way to start the day, the best beauty treatment you can get and the best cure for anything is running along, nattering, enjoying the morning smells, sights and sounds and then going to work with that fabulous feeling of having done something for yourself before the madness starts.

I truly believe that vaseline and a run are the best (and cheapest) beauty treatments around, my face just seems to have everything in the right place after a run, my cheeks are red and my skin just looks more alive.  Must be all that huffing and puffing I do....

Anyway, apart from that Simon and I are both unfit and gasping for air up the hills and remembering when we were fitter and could zoom up those hills (well, he was remembering that, I was thinking to myself, I freaking hate hills).  We promised ourselves a stop and a stretch at the top of the hill, at the 4km mark, then we'd turn round and run home.  Bloody hell, that was a challenge, then at the top of the hill was a man who must have been in his eighties, walking stick in hand, back curved with age, posture stooping over.  But there he was out for his morning walk, laughing at the pair of us gasping for air whilst we pretended to stretch against a lamppost.  Which reminded me how lucky we are to have our (relative) youth and fitness and the ability to just get out there and do it. 

Acceptance

Do you encourage someone who wants to motivate you?

Do you dump someone who wants you to be perfect?

How much is enough?

Where is the line between your motivation and their own motivation?

Or do you just  hang out with people who accept you as you are and love you for it?

Contemplation

I've been doing lots of contemplation of late, the meaning of life, is there life after death, was the universe created or was there a big bang, and will anyone ever forgive me for vomiting up red wine on that white carpet at Vegan camp two years ago and being so drunk I went to bed and forgot about it?