At the time of post publication, it is precisely one week, two and a half hours before this challenge becomes one year old. I can't believe how fast it has flown by; it seemed like only yesterday that the blog was in virtual nappies, gurgling (virtually) happily to itself in the corner of my screen. Now I get all misty eyed when I think of what it has become! All slideshows and videos!!
Seriously though, it is a weird feeling, but I must focus; reflections on the anniversary can wait as there is there is the small matter of a weigh in to address......
Bit of a nasty shock when first stepping on the scales of doom; it was showing 16 stone 9 pounds (2 pounds on) and I was something less than pleased; the language coming out of my mouth could safely (and politically correctilily) be called a 'verbal rainbow'. As is usually the case (for loss as well as gain) I tried again, and this time it was showing a 1 pound loss! (I assure you that even I am not fit enough to lose 3 pounds in about twenty seconds......millionaire overnight if you crack that secret....without chopping off an arm). So, nerves were jangling on the deciding weigh in......and I am happy to report that result number three (and four and five to make absolutely sure) confirmed the new weight as 16 stone 6 pounds. YAY!
This is down almost entirely to a return to normal in the exercise regime; 8km on Sunday followed by a further 6km before the weigh in making me work up a sweat and work off the flab. I've not eaten particularly badly, but had a slip at the weekend and plumped (pardon the pun) for a Chinese Saturday night (not doing my supermarket shop until Sunday morning = not enough 'stuff' for Saturday night dinner = takeaway......PLONKA!). Bread intake has been pretty high too. All very positive that even with all this I have still lost weight, and further positivity in knowing that if I have a good week (low bread, no Chinese) then next Tuesday's weigh in could be very interesting!
The romantic in me would love to break 16 stone for weigh in 52, but losing three pounds a week would be a bit drastic (plus, to me it would indicate that I am pushing it too hard and crossing the line into the 'unsustainable lifestyle' zone). Let's just go for the low 16's eh?
Wednesday, 13 June 2012
Monday, 11 June 2012
Compression Shorts!!!
Don't worry, this isn't the rare form of tourettes when I randomly blurt out items of clothing......."COMPRESSION SHORTS!!!"............"KIPPER TIE!!!"..........."STRING VEST!!!!!"....It is in actual fact, the hopefully complete and absolute remedy to chub rub!
I won't revisit its definition (for those of you who need one, see previous posts, or just do a bit of googling), but suffice it to say that as the running distances started to increase, it was becoming a problem too severe for Vaseline to be effective. After the Great Manchester, it stung like the mother of all carpet burns. Without these wonderful garments I fear for what even a half marathon would have done to me. Compression shorts are figure hugging, and almost form a second skin as they cling tight to the thigh, bottom, and, well; basically everywhere! So when previously it was skin rubbing on skin, now it is lycra gliding effortlessly across lycra. Ran 8km in the gym on Sunday and I can confirm there was zero chub, and if possible even less rub.....sheer bliss!
Now, before you get carried away (or fall off your chair) at the image of me in my Linford Christieness (you get what I mean, and if you don't; bless your innnocence!), I confirm that these are not the only shorts worn; a regular, non-huggy pair (not a character out of Starsky and Hutch) go on over the top. I cannot believe that these are actually meant to be worn on their own; they SO seem like underwear to me, and leave nothing to the imagination (not that for a millisecond you would consider imagining!). So my lunchbox (or mini thermos flask in my case) remains secreted from the patrons and staff of Haslingden Sports Centre gymnasium (for which I am sure they are truly grateful!).
Even more good news is that - as you can tell - I am back running again. Considering it has been a stetertetuttering time of it at the gym lately, it felt good - if a little hot and sweaty - to get a long run behind me; and no sign of a DFS relapse......result!! Not too far behind schedule for the Great North (and by a bit of fiddling, by tomorrow night I will be miraculously back on schedule!! If you sense a bit of goalpost moving on the horizon, you might well be correct....). Only fourteen weeks to go....but who's counting.........
I won't revisit its definition (for those of you who need one, see previous posts, or just do a bit of googling), but suffice it to say that as the running distances started to increase, it was becoming a problem too severe for Vaseline to be effective. After the Great Manchester, it stung like the mother of all carpet burns. Without these wonderful garments I fear for what even a half marathon would have done to me. Compression shorts are figure hugging, and almost form a second skin as they cling tight to the thigh, bottom, and, well; basically everywhere! So when previously it was skin rubbing on skin, now it is lycra gliding effortlessly across lycra. Ran 8km in the gym on Sunday and I can confirm there was zero chub, and if possible even less rub.....sheer bliss!
Now, before you get carried away (or fall off your chair) at the image of me in my Linford Christieness (you get what I mean, and if you don't; bless your innnocence!), I confirm that these are not the only shorts worn; a regular, non-huggy pair (not a character out of Starsky and Hutch) go on over the top. I cannot believe that these are actually meant to be worn on their own; they SO seem like underwear to me, and leave nothing to the imagination (not that for a millisecond you would consider imagining!). So my lunchbox (or mini thermos flask in my case) remains secreted from the patrons and staff of Haslingden Sports Centre gymnasium (for which I am sure they are truly grateful!).
Even more good news is that - as you can tell - I am back running again. Considering it has been a stetertetuttering time of it at the gym lately, it felt good - if a little hot and sweaty - to get a long run behind me; and no sign of a DFS relapse......result!! Not too far behind schedule for the Great North (and by a bit of fiddling, by tomorrow night I will be miraculously back on schedule!! If you sense a bit of goalpost moving on the horizon, you might well be correct....). Only fourteen weeks to go....but who's counting.........
Saturday, 9 June 2012
Subject Of The Month........The movies.......
Reluctant though I may be to pull myself away from the previous monthly subject (Great Manchester; think I may have mentioned it before....) time does move on. There is only so much which can be said about a 10 kilometre run before you start repeating repeating yourself yourself, so onto pastures new.
Anyone who even vaguely knows me, should be fully aware that I enjoy films. As with my musical proclivities (no idea what that word means, but I think it fits here; if the definition turns out to be naughty female body parts......what can I say......I readily apologise) being brought up as the distant youngest of six children I gained an appreciation for the oldies (black and white, or announced at the beginning to be in 'GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR' (American spelling!) those were the days!), as well as modern pictures. I can think of no better way to enjoy a couple of hours than being sucked into a story of heroism, of love, of struggle, of tears, of laughter, of triumph. The best of these stories are ones which not only draw you into it - make you feel it - but ones which contain a message for us, irrespective of whether it takes place in the past, in the future, or even in a galaxy far far away.
Even since I started writing this post, the idea of it has evolved. Originally the intention was to take you through the list of top Ady films; giving you a taste of the storyline - without giving too much away - as well as putting across why it is that it has made the elite-I'm-going-to-watch-this-over-and-over-until-the grooves-wear-off-on-the-DVD-and-despite-owning-it-I-will-still-watch-it-when-it-appears-on-the-telly status, but I realise that in doing this I am missing out on some fun (and yes, generally embarrassing) stories centred around my world of film and cinema. I ask you, where is the sense in you missing out on those eh?!
So that's what's coming; the top five movies, intermingled with tales of why my first visit to the cinema was the most traumatic experience of my single-figured life (the romance with movies almost ending before it had begun), my first hot dog, and the local cinema the demise and ultimate demolition of which was my first encounter with 'progress'.
Anyone who even vaguely knows me, should be fully aware that I enjoy films. As with my musical proclivities (no idea what that word means, but I think it fits here; if the definition turns out to be naughty female body parts......what can I say......I readily apologise) being brought up as the distant youngest of six children I gained an appreciation for the oldies (black and white, or announced at the beginning to be in 'GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR' (American spelling!) those were the days!), as well as modern pictures. I can think of no better way to enjoy a couple of hours than being sucked into a story of heroism, of love, of struggle, of tears, of laughter, of triumph. The best of these stories are ones which not only draw you into it - make you feel it - but ones which contain a message for us, irrespective of whether it takes place in the past, in the future, or even in a galaxy far far away.
Even since I started writing this post, the idea of it has evolved. Originally the intention was to take you through the list of top Ady films; giving you a taste of the storyline - without giving too much away - as well as putting across why it is that it has made the elite-I'm-going-to-watch-this-over-and-over-until-the grooves-wear-off-on-the-DVD-and-despite-owning-it-I-will-still-watch-it-when-it-appears-on-the-telly status, but I realise that in doing this I am missing out on some fun (and yes, generally embarrassing) stories centred around my world of film and cinema. I ask you, where is the sense in you missing out on those eh?!
So that's what's coming; the top five movies, intermingled with tales of why my first visit to the cinema was the most traumatic experience of my single-figured life (the romance with movies almost ending before it had begun), my first hot dog, and the local cinema the demise and ultimate demolition of which was my first encounter with 'progress'.