Full Circle

OK, so it's been a while since I checked in to update my progress. About four weeks in fact.

My last four weekly weigh-ins have been 90kg, 92kg, 91kg and 90kg. The increase was due to the weekend in Melbourne for the AFL Grand Final, which was decadent, especially when I had to drown my sorrows. Since then I've got back to where I was before flying to Melbourne. I still have heaps of work to do!

I've had precious little time to attend to this in the last month. I don't think I've even had time to go to the gym in the last month. I have managed to do a bit of running though (usually on nights when I should be going to the gym, which takes longer). My last three 10km run times have been 46:40, 47:50 and 46:50.

One thing I've noticed about the running is that it all seems to depend on how fast you start out. It seems inevitable that I am going to be knackered and dragging myself along the footpath at the end of the run, so it seems like I need to do all I can to maintain a sustainable but brisk pace in the first few kilometres.

I have been meaning to add a bit more by way of description but have been so busy lately it hasn't been possible to give this blog the priority I want to, which is a shame because it's a good record of my progress through the year, or, as seems to be the case at the moment, lack thereof.

There'll be a further weigh-in tonight also.

Cricket Training begins

I don't think it's unreasonable to forget everything you know about a sport in six months. Nor does my body, apparently.

The good news is my calf doesn't hurt after cricket training last night. The bad news is everything else does. As always, the start of the cricketing season is always a difficult time.

Cricket to me is very much a game which relies on muscle memory, which means the first session for the season can often be dispiriting. Things aren't as easy for me as they were six months ago, and also I'm performing actions I haven't done for six months either. Batting and especially bowling involve actions you wouldn't otherwise do.

So my shoulders, lower back, obliques and abs are all sore because they've been dormant for so long. If you remember, when I organised my gym workout I tried to target these groups but had no luck. Clearly.

The other completely dispiriting thing for me was how poor both my batting and bowling was. But that's another story for another time. Or never, preferrably.

One final comment on the cricket training, something else I saw through rose coloured glasses with the benefit of six months' hindsight: it wasn't the fitness workout I'd remembered it to be. At the end of the session I was sweaty and a little tired, but it was a different sort of training to my normal, endurance training.

Training (and cricket itself) features running in short bursts: running in to bowl, running between the wickets, chasing after a ball. Walking in with the bowler is enough for some of us.

The other trait in training and definitely in cricket itself is concentration. Not just watching the ball, but concentrating on your action and stance. It was this that hurt my lower back, particularly batting. But I know it gets better.

Anyways, while I thought at the time I'd done a bit of exercise, in hindsight I'm not all that surprised with the result of my week's training. I went to the gym again tonight although it was an abridged session (didn't really get time to test the calf), and I was denied a chance to run on Tuesday by an extremely frustrating incident that evening. The less said about it on the internets the better.

In the end, I probably did about the equivalent of one session of exercise this week, so I souldn't be surprised that I'm on 89kg. Up a little even.

Wheels...

... falling ... off.

Every week I swear I'm finding excuses to not go to the gym, and then feel hideously guilty afterwards. But guilt doesnt seem to be the great motivating factor that it has been - not before I'm due to do some exercise anyway.

This week I couldn't do anything on Tuesday, as we were interviewing potential housemates. Wednesday I came home feeling like rubbish, convinced I was coming down with the flu, with aching limbs, and thinking I wouldn't get to work on the Thursday. Um... today I guess.

So I ruled out the gym, maybe a bit too easily.

Finally, tonight, with a decent wind blowing and rain coming down, I felt obliged to go for a run. It was bloody cold but I had to give my calf a test. I ran for about ten minutes before it tightened up - at which point I stopped immediately.

So a brisk walk for a few minutes and then a jog home after that which went OK.

I can't say that was a lot of exercise really. And so it was a bit of a shock to find out that I was down a bit to 88.5kg.

The depressing thing is that the only thing I can put the weight loss down to is not drinking too much last weekend. What does this mean?! Where could I be, but for my boozing??

I don't want to think about it.

The Long Road Back

The weekend was obviously a huge disappointment. Not because I couldn't do the City to Surf, but because I missed a golden opportunity to sit down near my house, which is on the route, eat KFC and use a megaphone to heckle runners as they came past.

Really, it was perfect - cold but clear day, I had an excuse not to be running the race, I live really close (50m) to the course - but I got lazy and overslept.

Ah well, someone else can do it to me next year.

My week, exercise-wise, started very slowly. In fact, I didn't do anything as far as exercise goes until Wednesday. I returned to the gym for the first time since my (first) calf injury, and only the second time since I left for Europe in early July.

I'd been told I was OK to get on the rowing machine and the bike, and to swim. In fact it was encouraged. Anything that pushed my calf out of its comfort zone was good actually. And obviously doing weights was encouraged also.

Weights was a challenge not because of my calf, but because of the muscles I haven't used for so long. My abs and shoulders are very sore now, which of course is a good thing because it means I'm working on them and they're getting stronger.

Most importantly, the calf feels better now than it did before I entered the gym. Not least important, I feel much more confident on it. Earlier this week I was like a horse - I could walk upstairs but not downstairs. Now I can manage walking downstairs if I'm careful.

Still, overall, I didn't get a lot of exercise in. I was busy tonight and couldn't exercise. And that's reflected in my current weight.

Down slightly to 90kg.

So I need to lose 11kg in less than four months.

Not easy, but at least I'm moving in the right direction.

Come...

... uppance.

I'm sure it's on its way.

Following from last night's disaster I applied the heat pack all night and hoped it would pull up OK this morning. Not with a view to running - I was never a chance of that after last night - but to see if I could get around this morning without hobbling.

In short, I couldnt.

I walked in to work, and it didn't take long on that walk for me to be hobbling noticably. By the end of my walk to the bus it was almost pantomime.

It got worse.

At the moment the bathrooms on my floor at work are being refurbished, so to get to the bathroom I have to either go up or down a floor. I felt the call of nature and headed upstairs this morning, which was OK, but coming back downstairs was frankly excruciating. Basically any time I have to point my toes it hurts my calf. Quite a lot. So going downstairs is difficult, and even more difficult if the stairs are not long enough, as is the case in our building.

It got worse.

This afternoon we had a fire drill.

Four floors of walking down stairs, one step at a time, trying not to hold up the people behind me. And, given the company in the stairwell, trying not to swear too much.

These happen about once every three months and they have it today. Friggin' typical.

So at the end of the day I headed to the physio appointment, basically waiting for the inevitable. I explained what happened last night. Sarge gave me a fitness test...

"Try and hop on your bad leg"

"OK, I ... AAAARGH!"

"OK, that's a no then. You're out of the City to Surf."

He gave me a rub down and some acupuncture on the calf.

It got worse.

I'm unable to train for cricket for about two weeks, which is a kick in the guts. But at least I can still do some exercise - the bike, the swim, the ergo, and obviously weights.

But that didn't stop this week being completely disrupted for training. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it, dammit.

Excuse for what?

I'm up to 90.5kg.

Puck. Again.

More Lethargy

Not very inspiring is it?

This week, on top of my still-injured calf stopping me from running. That's bad.

But I got medical advice from a mate and gave it heaps of rest. That's good.

I was laid up with the flu on Tuesday and Wednesday. That's bad.

But I got two days off work. That's good.

So no exercise for me at all this week. That's bad.

But my flu meant I didn't eat much. That's good.

But I had a heap of tea. That's bad.

But tea is a diuretic. That's good.

But the food I ate when I did eat was not healthy. That's bad.

But diuretic means you wee a lot. That's good.

And despite all that there's been virtually no change to my weight, steadyish at 88kg. That's bad.

As Homer would say ... can I go now?

PS. Clearly the lethargy is extending to the actual writing of the blog.

Trouble

Big trouble in fact.

As I was doing my Tuesday run, and I was about as far from my house as I get in these runs, I started up a long, gentle hill. For most of the run, I'd felt a bit of tightness in my left calf. I'd actually felt tightness when I started running and stopped to stretch it out. I couldn't do it properly but thought I'd done enough. And I had for the flat, or slightly downhill part of the run.

But the only real hill - and it's not much of one - kicked in and not long into it the tightness got worse. And then it got painful. It didn't take long until I realised I wasn't going to finish the run. I was less than 5km into it.

So I walked back and swore a bit on the way. But I did also enjoy the view - there are a not of nice houses along my jogging route.

But that was small consolation. On Wesneday and Thursday I couldn't do cardio at the gym (I'm getting some advice on this at the moment - how it's best to maintain some decent cardio exercise), so I was left with about 15 minutes of decent exercise during the week.

And I learnt the hard way today that I need to take a lot of care with my calf. On the way home I literally jumped off the bus and landed on the balls of my feet. My calf twinged again, enough for me to audibly cry out in front of strangers.

I think I am in genuine doubt for my first City to Surf. It's 17 days away, and there are a few hills in that run, which will give the calves a workout. If calves are anything like a hamstring it might take a while to get better.

To literally add insult to injury, I'm back up to 88.5kg.

Puck.

Back to the Gym

After the shambles that was last week, this week could only be an improvement.

And it was, marginally.

I couldn't run on Tuesday night because I worked late and had to head to my parents' place, and had pizza commitments on Wednesday nights. I managed to get a run in before making pizzas for the house.

The run felt not much better than last week, with a stitch developing early in the run and never really going away, I felt like I wasnt doing much better than last week, so when I finished I was surprised to see my time was a big improvement on the previous week: 46:20.

I was stoked with that, but even better, I was able to walk 48 hours later, unlike last week.

So on Thursday I headed to the gym and gave my upper body its first workout since my return. Not a very satisfying workout as I was again late getting there thanks to work. Again.

So after a lame week of exercise and (home made) pizza-related diet issues, I had some trepidation in approaching the scales.

Unlike the week after ToMarto Cup, I was unable to convincingly shake off the kilos, and I'm on 87.5kg.

Return to the Routine

Well, that was the plan anyway.

After four weeks off travelling and recovering from jetlag, I arrived home from work a bit late. I stood in my room for a couple of minutes, half in work gear and half in running gear, wondering if I should just brush of the run, but I eventually went. Again, guilt was the motivating factor. So I took off for my 10km run along the normal course.

I knew I was in trouble when I needed my second wind after 150 metres.

It didn't get much better for the rest of the run. I got stitches in about four places in my belly and felt like stopping many times on the run.

But I got to the end, eventually, taking a laborious 48:30 to get through the 10km. That's about 3 minutes outside of my best time.

It got worse. On Wednesday I was a little stiff, and not in a good way. Quads in particular had ceased up. So I stayed on the safe side and didn't go to the gym. I justified it by saying sometimes I need a day's break between exercise to recover.

Then today I could barely move. I walked like I was using crutches, and getting to the bathroom at work, which involves stairs at the moment due to renovations, was a genuine struggle.

So that time, plus the struggles in the run and afterwards, tells me I've lost a lot of my fitness base.

Given I have just sent out a challenge, this could spell trouble.

In the meantime I'm back up to 89kg. Not entirely unexpected. Cycling for two days on the holiday wasn't exactly keeping up my fitness regime.

The City to Surf Challenge

The Challenge is out there. On Monday I sent this out to friends I hoped would join me.

Yeah I'm competitive, and you can tell, but it is a great motivator.

We'll see how this works itself out...

--

Today I was off sick from work.

So it was somewhat ironic that I used part of the day to sign up for the City to Surf.

It's on August 30 and I'm doing it (just the 12km thanks, no marathon for me). I've never done it before. In fact I don't think I've ever run 12 consecutive kilometres before.

Some of you have known me for a long time, through the highs and lows of my fitness and weight (both of which are ongoing struggles I'm not going to pretend are over). For those of you who in the past had the luxury of saying "yeah I might be a little unfit but at least I'm not Plugger" your comeuppance has arrived. For those people I have a question for you.

My question to you is this: do you think you can beat me?

I am of course joking a little bit, but I'm keen to take this challenge, in less than five weeks, and I figure it will be much better and much more fun to do this with mates. It might even help us motivate each other. Bragging rights are a great motivator.

If you're keen, then visit here and get yourself organised.

I have taken the rather ambitious step of registering for Group B (you'll know what that means when you sign up). I'm a little bit scared about it now.

So who else wants to avoid the shame of losing to me, or even worse, chickening out? Who else is keen on doing this (with or without bragging rights)?

---

If you're keen, then get on board.

Wardrobe Malfunction

It's been a long time since I played netball, but I used to love it. We played netball on the tennis courts at UWA, up near the sports centre. We played mixed netball (obviously), and in those days that was enough to make me feel like I was getting weekly exercise.

I played GS.

For the uninitiated, that means I covered a third of the court, and with my good mate Stevie (who played GA) we were the Mounds of Pounds.

Every now and then we'd play when it was raining. Seems shocking now - a lawsuit waiting to happen - but it did happen every now and then.

We did it just enough for me to get romantic about it. I loved the idea of "wetball" and played it just seldom enough that I could wax lyrical about it. Since I stopped playing netball, I've wondered whether I viewed the wet weather games through rose coloured glasses.

But then winter came around here this year. I've been itching for a Tuesday (the night I run) to be a wet day, and in particular a wet night. I've been itching to run in the rain.

Finally, this week, I got my chance.

My heart was a-flutter as it rained during the day. I haven't been this excited about running since I kicked it up to 10kms a few months ago.

It didn't all turn out as expected though. Don't get me wrong, I expected my shoes to get heavy while running, and I knew my fingers would get cold, but I was in for a surprise nonetheless. I wore a yellow shirt rather than the usual white, so I wouldn't give passers by a peep show. Not without paying anyways.

Running up Hay Street, almost home, I ran past a girl holding an umbrella. She looked at me like I was a freak. I was grimacing a bit but I thought it was a little rude of her.

Then I got home. I looked down to open the door and noticed a red stain on my shirt. Funny, I haven't used my yellow Aussie cricket shirt for cricket for a while, so there shouldn't be a stain there. But there were two stains.

My nipples were bleeding.

I just realised how gross that sounds. Just be thankful I'm male.

Anyway my nipples are still sore, after two solid sessions in the gym also. And so are my abs.

So I've certainly earned this: I'm down 1.5kg to 86.5kg.

C'mon!

Short and Sweet

A very quick one this week. My facebook status tells it all really: I ran 10km in 45:20 this Tuesday. For reasons I won't go into I was frazzled, nervous and bloody tired by Tuesday night. I took off on my run faster than normal, but really struggled at the end. I was sure it would be a crappy time, I was struggling that much. So I was pleasantly surprised - enough to yell out "f*ck yeah!" over my iPod out the front of our house.

Wednesday and Thursday - no gym this week. I'm not saying why but I'm not feeling guilty, unlike other times.

So I've got what I deserved this week. Slightly up to 88kg.

I need to give myself a kick in the pants before I head to Europe. Might have to do a bit more running too. I'm tempted to up the course from 10km to 13km (about the length of the City to Surf - that's no coincidence).

Snapping Off Two Nervous Ones

The reason I spoke last week about my music was because I expected to update my Fire Up playlist (such as it is called on my iPhone). But I had a series of frustrating encounters with iTunes and my parents’ computer which I wish I could say did not end in copious amounts of swearing.

It took a while – about four separate trips to my parents’ place – to sort it out.

But finally I made some changes, added some songs to my iPhone, which included the following additions to my playlist:

Never Miss a Beat – Kaiser Chiefs

Suddenly I See – KT Tunstall

You Know My Name – Chris Cornell

Khe Sanh – Cold Chisel

Love in the First Degree – Bananarama

You Shook Me All Night Long – ACDC

Thunderstruck – ACDC

Eye of the Tiger – Survivor

New Soul – Yael Naim

Man! I Feel Like A Woman! – Shania Twain

Spiderwebs – No Doubt

Sunday Morning – No Doubt

OK, now you’re wondering why I wasted so many hours and expletives on this exercise. Screw you then. If it makes me run faster it’s done its job.

Speaking of which, because of a rather large decision I made this week I have been extremely nervous for the last couple of days (as reflected in my Facebook status). For a while last night, I was tempted not to go to the gym, so nervous was I about what I’d done. But I figured I would never get to sleep if I didn’t do something to tire me out, and I didn’t have enough money for hookers so that left me with the gym.

It paid off – I had a bit more adrenalin in the system (or so it seemed) and I turned some potentially negative energy to good use. I find it’s generally a good thing to do exercise when you’re frustrated or apprehensive about something, or if you’re mentally fatigued. Sometimes it can freshen you up, even if it doesn’t take your mind off things completely.

It was payday today but I took the thrifty option and went to the gym again.

Did it pay off?

I'm steady at 87.5kg.

Bugger.

My Playlist

I would be nothing without my playlist. Nothing. It keeps me fired up and motivated. Have a look at it:

Take Me Out – Franz Ferdinand

Take On Me – A-ha

It's a Long Way to the Top – ACDC

Sabotage – Beastie Boys

Get Outta My Dreams – Billy Ocean

Atomic – Blondie

Song 2 – Blur

Rock the Casbah – The Clash

Lose Yourself – Eminem

Monkey Wrench – Foo Fighters

What's My Scene – Hoodoo Gurus

Rock and Roll – Led Zeppelin

Rock DJ – Robbie Williams

Master of Puppets – Metallica

Beds are Burning – Midnight Oil

One Night in Bangkok – Murray Head

Don't Stop Me Now – Queen

Fat Bottomed Girls – Queen

Kung Foo Sing – Regurgitator

Street Fighting Man – Rolling Stones

Superstition – Stevie Wonder

Dazed and Confucius – TISM

I'll 'Ave Ya – TISM

Let's Club It To Death – TISM

Greg! The Stop Sign!! – TISM

Out of Touch – Hall and Oates

1000 Miles Away – Hoodoo Gurus

Walk Idiot Walk – The Hives

Hey Ya! – OutKast/Andre 3000

Under Pressure – Queen & David Bowie

Seven Nation Army – The White Stripes

Stand by the Jams – KLF feat Tammy Winette

Suck My Kiss – Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Dani California – Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Born to be Alive – Patrick Hernandez

A Boy Named Sue – Johnny Cash

Disco Inferno – The Trammps

Father and Son – TISM

Fight for your Right –Beastie Boys

Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head – Gorillaz

Folsom Prison Blues – Johnny Cash

The Fosters Car Park Boogie – TISM

Intergalactic – Beastie Boys

It's Raining Men – The Weather Girls

Jump In My Car – Ted Mulry Gang

Land of Sunshine – Faith No More

Living for the City – Stevie Wonder

Bohemian Like You – The Dandy Warhols

History Repeating – Propellerheads feat Shirley Bassey

Sex On Fire – Kings of Leon

My People – The Presets

Electric Feel – MGMT

It's a wonderful mix of faster and heavier songs, disco, and catchy tunes.

I did have another song on there, the excellent Love In the First Degree by Bananarama. It's a cracker. At least I thought I had it on this playlist. As I settled in to some exercises at the gym, imagine my horror when some slow crooning assaulted my ears and nearly put me to sleep. A different song, from Dad's collection, was on my iPhone instead! Infecting the other songs with its dagginess! It was Love In The First Degree by Alabama.

I had to get off the machine and change the song as soon as possible. I can be motivated by many ... um ... motives, but spite isnt one of them.

This week, after a run and two trips to the gym (and a long weekend, and decent feed on Wednesday), I'm up just a touch to 87.5kg.

Take a Picture. It'll last longer.

Youl will see on this website over 100 posts. Many of them are stories of my travels through Europe and across the world. In many of those entries there are hyperlinks to photos in my photo album.

There is one thing that has been with me the whole time I've been travelling. And that is my camera.

I have taken literally tens of thousands of photos on my camera - over 1000 in two weeks in India alone - since I got it in April 2006, just before I left for ther UK for the first time.

Actually I didn't buy my camera. It's something I don't remember thinking I'd need before I left for the UK, which in hindsight is absolutely insane. There's no way I'd do that now.

So to whose foresight do I owe a digital imprint of my memories from my mass of travels over the last three years? My sister and (now) brother-in-law. They had been on a world trip themselves, and when giving out presents at the end of their trip they gave me a camera case. I politely thanked them.

Then they gave me the camera. A very hardy little device it is too. It's a Sony Cybershot, 6.0 megapixels, 3.0x optical zoom and 5.1x digital zoom. Those figures are not impressive nowadays, particularly the megapixels. But it was always more than I needed: I always set it on 2.0 megapixels.

Most of the silver paint has come off now, particularly where I hold it. Also, a couple of days before I set off on a massive eight week jaunt through Europe in May 2008, the button that takes the photos broke off. It's now held on by plaster tape purchased in a Parisian hardware store.

But the march of time affects us all, not least digital gizmos, so it is time for an upgrade. The new camera, a Panasonic Lumix, with 10x optical zoom (the main reason I made the change). If it gives me half as much joy as the the Cybershot, it will have served me well.

So thank you Cybershot, you little battler. You haven't quite gone to Cybershot Heaven yet, you're on the bench and will be used in the future, in the case of emergencies.

And thank you so much to Kristy and Dave - you have no idea how useful your present has been to me!

(It's suitable that my picasa web albums are full now. But I will have to get a pic of the little battler up on the blog as soon as I can.)

All Running, no Gym

Engagements on Wednesday and Thursday nights - as well as my usual Tuesday night dinner - there was no time for the gym, and so it was a tale of three runs.

Er... again.

But this time it was three full runs - 10km each along the usual route.

The first run was, frankly, a disaster. While running down Thomas Road I ran into a bus stop. I was running and I hit a bus stop. I was not drunk and have no other excuse, except that it didnt get out of my f*cking way.

Further to that, I got a stitch not long after, less than 20% of the way through my run. Normally if you get a stitch that early you expect to run through it, but nooooo, that f*cker hung around.

Wednesday went little better. No stitch but it took a long time to get going, never really got momentum and my second wind took a long time coming. I lumbered along for most of the run and felt like I only just made it home.

Come this morning I was feeling sore in strange places. My left hip for example. And my right thigh. By the time I was ready to set out tonight for my run, I was still sore. I almost decided to do some stretching.

But in the end I decided against it and took off for a run. And to be honest, I cruised through it. I got to about the half-way mark, at the end of a long, gentle incline - I won't call it a hill - where normally hit a bit of a wall, and I was still going OK.

I got home, checked the time and I'd done it in 46:20. I was happy enough to say as much on my facebook status.

What I should've said is that finally there's a bit of movement on the weight loss chart. It was a little unclear whether the scales were 86.5kg or 87kg. I was tempted to say I was on the verge of a milestone (losing 10kg), but in the end I've decided to make a conservative judgement, and call it 87kg.

Still, it's progress.

I Have Been Remiss

... and I don't just mean that I waited until early Saturday morning to post my regular Thursday blog entry. Although, again, I should apologise for that.

I've had a bit of a draining week or two, and come Thursday I pyked. I missed a gym session.

I went on Tuesday and ran (slightly slowly, just under 48 mins) on Wednesday, like usual. But by Thursday things had got on top of me and I was pretty fried from a draining week. Not physically, but definitely mentally and emotionally.

What I knew, in the back of my mind even as I was inventing justifications to miss the gym, was that doing physical exercise would not actually do any harm to me. In fact, when I was in the UK and going to the gym regularly, I felt a lot better when I came out. Really reinvigorated by mentally by exhausting myself physically.

But even though - if I'm honest - I was thinking about that as I was sitting on the couch just after 6pm (when I'd usually be walking in to the gym). But it didn't matter as I needed the rest I felt. But of course I didnt get it as I was feeling guilty about missing the gym.

And rightly so. Mainly because I missed that session I stayed level on 88kg.

I can't say I didn't deserve it. Hopefully I can make up for it by not drinking too much this weekend. I didn't drink tonight. Obviously I'm sober as I write this. I hope you can tell.

A Tale of Two Arses

I had no idea what I was going to write about tonight until I was half way through my workout tonight.

Normally I write a good chunk of these posts during the day at work - not really dedicating any time to them but just jotting thoughts down as I go. In reality this usually consists of a blank email until about 4:55 when I scramble a few words down. But I doubt that you can tell.

No time today at all, but I had a stroke of luck while working out.

Two weeks ago I spoke of a tale of three runs. That was more about me. Let me allay your fears by saying neither of the arses concerned is mine.

In every gym, there is the Gym Hottie. Well there's probably two - a bloke and a girl - but I only notice the women. And theyre different every time - it's just whoever is the hottest in the gym, and you know they're the hottest for two reasons, neither related to their physical attributes.

The first is the way she carries herself. Really it's pretty obvious - it's confidence. She will walk around shoulders back, assertive but not over-confident, quietly attracting attention.

Which brings me to the second reason: she's the one that every bloke in the place thinks is the hottest. Peer pressure is an incredibly powerful force, and you can tell without even making eye contact with other blokes. No looks need be exchanged - you can just feel the tension when someone takes the machine next to the Gym Hottie. They stumble ever-so-slightly when they hop on and off. Its a wholly observable phenomenon.

So, to the arses...

The first, it will not surprise you, is of the Gym Hottie. She was on the cross-trainer, which faces out to the pool. I was on the benches resting between sets of dumbell fly reps. I was facing away from her, and she from me. But I had a mirror I could look in to. And I have to admit it was hard to take my eyes off her but it didn't stop me going back to my reps.

But that wasn't all of it. There was a bloke on a machine between us, facing in her direction. The machine was a leg curl one. The bloke - a younger chap of about 22 I'd say - sat on the machine and I seriously doubt whether he actually did any exercise. Eventually he hopped off, I don't know why (she was still on the cross-trainer and I can't imagine he'd grown bored). A gym instructor replaced the young bloke. He was a bit older, late twenties, and was showing around another girl who was clearly at the gym for the first time.

The instructor sat down on the machine to demonstrate how it works, and he froze. I was listening to my iPod (I think Disco Inferno was playing at that stage), but it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he had stopped talking altogether and was drooling. I felt for the other girl.

When I finished my reps I hopped on the cross-trainer next to the Gym Hottie. I stumbled visibly when I hopped on.

Straight after the cross-trainer I jumped over to do some reverse crunches, which oviously involves lying down. It was then I was confronted by the second arse in question.

First, a bit of background. The arse belongs to a bloke who works there. He's a personal trainer and to be fair I haven't really spoken to him - I haven't had the need to. But every time I go there he is there too. He wears a polo shirt which is a bit too small for him - it comes just past his waist but not much further.

You might wonder how I, a flaming heterosexual, noticed that. Well, I couldn't help because of what he wears leggings - those "Skins" things - without any shorts. Basically I can tell what religion he is.

That's bad enough, but when I went to do my crunches, he was infront of me, facing away from me, bending forward and facing away from me, spotting for a chap doing a bench press.

And yet it got worse - today he wasn't wearing skins. He was wearing cycle shorts. Very short cycle shorts - essentially boxer briefs. Ew. I honestly don't know how someone - well, a bloke - could wear something like that at a gym.

--

Now I should admit right now that my weight tonight had not changed. It's 88kg. Bugger.

That doesn't mean the story above was a distraction. To be fair I'm due for a haricut soon, and need to clip my fingernails so maybe that was a factor.

Trouble a-brewin'

This is my first “back to normal” week: French on Monday, run on Tuesday and gym on Wednesday and Thursday. And booze this weekend.

It started well enough, with my 10km run on Tuesday. I’m noticing it getting slightly easier, even if I’m not getting any faster.

On Wednesday morning, I felt a touch sore – my thighs and calves, naturally, had a bit of muscular soreness, but the outside of my left foot was a bit sore also, and it wasn’t muscular.

It got a touch worse as I ran from work to the gym but was still manageable (although I definitely dislike running with a backpack on – it really affects my action). I also ran my usual 15 mins on the treadmill at the gym also and it was slightly aggravated.

Still, I was keen to push on and run a couple of kms home from the gym. I started out OK but it got worse dramatically and as I was crossing the freeway at Loftus Street I had to stop and walk most of the rest of the way. It was incredibly frustrating – all the more so when I spend most of my time running trying to resist the urge to stop.

I hope the foot is OK. At the gym tonight I focussed on low-impact exercise – specifically not running. I also took my gym stuff to work again so walked straight to the gym from there.

So I finally did two gym sessions and a run in one week – something approaching my ideal, balanced routine.

The outcome? A modest improvement (which is all I need if I stick to my routine). I'm at 88kg.

Better late than never

OK, OK, so I ran out of time to make my weekly blog entry last week. I’m sorry, OK? Jesus, get off my back!

 

Exercise last week was curtailed by the long weekend (so not doing anything on Monday, which is how it will be from now on anyway with French lessons back on tonight), and the fact that I had a prior engagement on the Thursday night (err ... watching Wolverine), so I couldn’t do any exercise that night either.

 

Truth be told, I should have done some exercise on Thursday or Friday – a 10km run for example – but I was kept late at work on Thursday and Friday I like to slip into weekend mode as soon as possible.

 

That’s slack, I know, and the upshot of it all was that I went to the gym on Wednesday and did my 10km run on Tuesday and that was it for the week. And when it came to my weekly weight-in on Thursday night, well ... I got what I deserved.

 

I small step backwards to 89kg.

 

Curse my desire to start the weekend as soon as possible.