Happy Aches

That's what I have right now. I got my (expanding) behind back to the gym today. It's been three months since I broke my foot and I've had enough waiting around for it. It has got to the point where I could see all the gains I'd made earlier in the year start disappearing. Not to mention all those niggly aches and pains I get from sitting around are beginning to creep back.

I saw this article in The Grauniad over the weekend about Ronda Rousey with this great quote that stayed with me.

Listen, just because my body was developed for a purpose other than fucking millionaires doesn’t mean it’s masculine ... I think it’s femininely bad-ass as fuck, because there not a single muscle in my body that isn’t used for a purpose, because I’m not a do-nothing bitch.

I got to thinking that while I am far more active in my daily life than I have ever been, it's not enough. The days of me being a do-nothing bitch ended about three years ago. Mornings still aren't my friend, but I can't remember the last time I slept in past 9 o'clock. Even when I have days which aren't that productive, when I stop to think about what I've done, the list is longer than I first realise.

The fact of the matter is it's a start, now I've got to get back on the horse and carry on. I've got things to do that won't happen unless I am fitter and stronger. I am happier when I exercise regularly, I sleep better and I'm emotionally more robust and less inclined to hormonal breakdowns. 

The last couple of weeks have been a bit tough for quite a few reasons, some of which have been beyond my control, but it's given me time to think and re-evaluate my personal aims and objectives. I put on my Big Girl Pants and filed my tax return. I took solid steps to improve my finances and I've continued to add words to my manuscript. 

Looking at my work in progress, it's not bad. Already I can see changes that must be made. I changed the way I work. Rather than try editing as I go, I focus on getting the words out. "This is my first draft of my first book" is the mantra I start with every session. Wanting to write the best book I could possibly write undermined my previous efforts and left me rocking in a corner. This is the first book, I've never written a book before. Of course, it's a steep learning curve, but only one I'll ever be able to climb by writing over it; writing through it. 

I can see the shape of my life gradually coming into focus, for the first time in a long time. Things are beginning to slot into shape. I have a better idea of how to go about getting what I want. In other words, it's all good people. It's not easy, but it's still good.

Removing the filters

...of my insecurities and body issues, I see the Shiny Gym and its users in a new light. When I first went, all I saw was the fit young men and women in glowing health, lifting weights, on the machines barely breaking a sweat. I wore my fitness gear uncomfortably: black lycra bottoms and my long sleeved running tops, covered up by a sweater. I did not feel worthy in this Temple of Fitness, Health and Beauty. 

I've only been going a month. I went shopping for new fitness gear: loud, bright and I've been showing off my arms. I still have my sweater for when I start, they believe in air-conditioning and it's a bit chilly until I get going. 

The people at the desk and the other trainers greet me and we have small chats about the weather and my rather colourful leggings. What can I say? They were relatively inexpensive, comfortable and they make me feel great. 

The other users? Well, they aren't looking at me, but I am looking at them, mostly in wonder. 

There's the guy who looks like he fell off the Grateful Dead Tour Bus, stubbed out his toke and threw on some shorts. There's the woman who should be an exotic dancer: she's drop dead gorgeous, long straight hair, dancer's physique and a smile to melt the ice in anyone's Pimms. There's the identikit gay couple flirting and showing off to each other as they lift small mountains balancing on medicine balls. There's the woman who can't walk, but still goes large on the leg press; the man for whom walking is a challenge and kicks butt on the rowing machines. There's the two nearly-retired women, really good friends who chat about their pensions, children, husbands and work throughout their session and into their clean-up time. They smile and laugh as they sweat and pull tired and insecure women into their conversations. There's the granny who came in her cardigan and loafers to walk a few miles on the treadmill. The 50-something woman who carried out a conversation with the sweaty guy on an exercise bike next to her while she pounded the arse out of a treadmill for half an hour. 

When I started I didn't think there was a place for me. I have been physically lazy for most of my life and it shows in my posture, my aches and pains, and the flabbiness and weakness of my muscles. Now, when I finish my workout, I want to high five everyone there. I suspect it won't be long before I start thumping my chest on deadlift days. I'm now wondering whether in a few weeks time, I could include some yoga or Pilates classes to get some flexibility into my regime. 

As awesome as it is right now, there's so much more I want to do. I want to run again. I want to be fit enough to run/bike/walk to the gym, do my workout and get home again without needing to ring someone to pick me up. I want to go on bike rides around the countryside with Dave. I'm hoping that I've got the next 45 years to make up for the sloth of the last 45 years. 

Lookin' at that Hoss from the Ground

Last week, I realised how far I was slipping back into my old, lazy assed self. I was struggling to get things done around the flat. I started looking in the mirror and seriously disliking what I saw. Nothing else had changed apart from the fact that I was laid up with my lower back and my poorly, wrenched wrist. 

Boy and I went away for a few days, the late end of last week. We went to move him from halls of residence to his student house. I like Lincoln as a place to visit. It's got a great vibe. Or at least, it does where Boy lives.

We agreed there would be no stressing and there really wasn't. We took the move slowly, with lots of breaks. Somehow, in the 9 months he was there, he went from 1 car load of stuff to 2.5! Granted, it wasn't packed tightly - the car load going up was a bit like a level on Tetris - but even so. 

After the move, we then went up to Beverly for the wedding of the Viking to his Lovely. It was an absolutely amazing day from start to finish, even with the occasional downpour. Thank goodness for Clinique mascara, that's all I'm saying. I started dabbing my eyes with the first hymn and didn't stop until the Wedding March.

I made the mistake of saying to people "yep, we're going to the wedding of my ex-bf." I learnt too late that I then had to go into the whole "it was a good break-up, we're really good friends, I'm really happy for them. No, I'm REALLY happy for them" routine. The fact of the matter is, the Viking spent the whole day looking at his Lovely like he just opened all of his birthday and Christmas presents at once, while she looked like she'd just won the lottery. Both sets of parents were delighted all round. That people down here couldn't understand, I'm afraid that's their look out. Not mine. What was particularly lovely was the warmth that both Boy and myself were greeted. I've got stern instructions to return sooner, rather than later to have a proper catch up with everyone. Frankly, I'm looking forward to becoming Mad Aunty Roses (no pressure darlings, no pressure). 

While we were away, I had many miles of open road to think. 

My lower back issue means absolutely no running. Running is hard on everything and the impact could potentially make things much worse. My wrenched wrist means no load bearing, or twisting; pretty much rules out lifting, swimming, cycling or push-ups. My dishy osteopath advised waiting until I was pain free for a week before attempting any strengthening exercises. 

My body, mind and energy levels were reverting to how I felt two years ago and it was not good. 

I also had the time to think about my weight. It's a bit of a touchy subject with me. 

The fitness industry for women, tends to focus on weight loss and paints everything pink. Go into the main stream gyms, health food shops, it smacks you straight in the face. Being the rebellious sort, I've resolutely stuck to my numbers. I am not overweight, my BMI* is smack bang within the healthy range. I don't have anything to worry about, health-wise.

However, the fact of the matter is that while this is true, my body fat percentage is too high for my liking. When I look in the mirror now, I don't see muscle, I see flab. I see the results of 3 months on my butt. Ladies and gentlemen, trust me when I say this, it isn't pretty. It does not feel good.

One of the things I struggle with is planning. I can create a plan, no problem; implementing said plan, well, that's a different matter altogether. I kind of get there, but not within the timescales I originally set out. For example, I have a running app called Zombies Run! 5k. It's an 8 week programme to take you from couch to running your first 5k. Did I do it in 8 weeks? Hell no. In fact, I'm on week 8, workout 2. I can give you all the reasons why I didn't stick to the plan and mostly, they are good. But the outcome is still the same - I didn't do it.

I'm a woman who likes a challenge. Therefore, I set myself this challenge. I am on the 5:2 diet for the next 7 weeks (or rather 6 as it started on Monday). Don't ask me why I set 7 weeks, it was a completely arbitrary number. For the next 7 weeks I am going to be eating 500 calories for 2 days in the week. 

In this time I am also going to be doing what I call Foundation exercises. I'm doing a basic circuit, cardio and abs routines throughout the weeks ahead. Everything I'm doing is geared to get me to the point where I can pick up my weights and lace up my running shoes again. 

There's a physio dude at my gym who I've been trying to get hold of and this week I managed to snag an appointment with him. We had an hour long consult and next week, there will be another one. He assessed me on everything: body, exercise, diet and mental health. It was very useful indeed. He's already made some adjustments to my current circuit routine to address the issues in my lower body. I lack strength in weird places which is causing the imbalances that has lead to my lower back issues. He's highlighted some dietary issues and made a suggestion about probiotics. I followed that up as soon as I got home yesterday. Some eye-wateringly expense probiotics will be winging their way over to me next week. Unlike the probiotic yoghurts and drinks available in the supermarket, these have been cultivated to colonise the gut. Stuff from the supermarket, usually high in sugar, has been designed to die so when a person stops taking them, they stop feeling the benefit. These probiotics are shipped with cool packs and have to be stored in the fridge. I do not expect miracles, but improvements are more than welcome.

Next Wednesday morning, he's going to put me through my paces. I will come away with a programme that will address these niggly issues and hurtle me towards my Awesome again.

Ladies and Gentlemen, that is a very tall horse that I will be am climbing back on. This first week has not been shitz and gigglez as the kids say. I feel beset on all sides at the moment. But I am buggered if I'm going to lay here on the floor and take it.

*BMI is not a particularly useful measurement for weight, despite the fact that it's pretty much universally used by health and fitness professionals. Muscle is more dense than fat, if you're athletic and have a low body fat percentage, chances are your BMI will class you as obese. True story.

Continuing to be Tedious

As the title suggests, I will bang on about fitness stuff again. This is my second week of completed gym sessions and my last with my Personal Trainer (PT) for four weeks. Of all of the decisions I've made recently, this is the one I am exceptionally pleased about. Or should I say a doubly good one?

The gym is brilliant. I love it's shabbiness. It's functional only; with an emphasis on weights and strength training. There are nods to cardio and floor work in the back with a handful of machines, but that's pretty much it. You want shiny machines, tvs to watch, magazines to read? You're in the wrong place. 

My PT is fantastic. The programme he developed for me is perfect in that it's challenging, addresses my weakness and builds on my strengths. In the past two weeks I've seen some brilliant improvements. Mind you, I look on every extra rep, every added 0.25kg as a brilliant improvement. 

Working out at home to the DVDs did exactly what I hoped they'd do: they built my confidence and brought up my fitness level to the point where I felt comfortable taking it further. What they couldn't do was correct my form. I knew I wanted to increase the weights, but I wasn't happy doing so without a better idea of form. I am doing everything possible to avoid injury. I felt if I went out and bought heavier weights I would be at risk. Perhaps I was a bit overly-cautious, but I would rather take it more slowly and anchor in the fitness habit properly so I continue to feel excited and motivated about exercising.

What I wasn't prepared for was the increase in my appetite. I'd heard about the need for protein after a workout, but mostly dismissed that as just manly men hype....until at 10.30am on Monday I would have killed for a whole roasted chicken. On Wednesday, I had a funny turn and it was suggested I really need to eat before my workout. I have no wish to throw up on the gym floor. That would just be embarrassing. It was good advice because this morning I had my mid-morning smoothie first thing instead and no wobblies. Please don't laugh, but I'm looking into protein shakes to boost my mid-morning smoothie to deal with the sudden carnivorous urges. 

Next week, I start Gym/Run/Rest rotations. I'm really excited about getting back out there to pound the pavement. I've missed the running. Again, deciding not to run while I got to grips with the new strength routine was a good one. I am grudgingly following Dave's advice to start with this routine rather than go straight into running and gym on alternate days with a rest on Sundays.

Last blog post, I talked about the added extra of confidence I've gained by doing the strength training. During the weekend, I realised something else.

The last 6 months have been the most consistently stressful, and in parts, distressing period of time I've experienced pretty much since my dad died nearly four years ago. In this time, I have gone from working out irregularly to working out pretty much 3-4 times a week, if not 5-6 times some weeks. This year, I started running, then joined a gym and started lifting weights. My working hours have increased to the point where it's rare that I leave the office before 6pm; my workload has multiplied like bunny rabbits on viagra and I've gone to anyone who would listen and demanded more responsibility. I haven't taken many sick days at all, despite the winter bugs and more importantly, and this is the point of it all - I am not depressed. 

I am not dragging my arse behind me trying to get things done at home or at work. I am out of bed in the mornings and after an hour of Pink Fluffy Dressing Gown, coffee and Facebook, I am out of my chair doing stuff. On my days off, I don't nap in the afternoon any more as standard. When I come home in the evenings, I'm still doing what needs to be done. My housework is no longer a chore I have to work up to. Don't get me wrong, I'm still knackered, but gone are the days when I'd crawl through the door and have a microwave meal because it was the only thing I could manage to do.

This is quite a scary revelation for me. For the past 43 years, I thought I had problems with my energy levels, problems with mental health. It turns out there's nothing wrong with my energy levels or my mental health - I just wasn't fit enough to live. 

All this time wasted.

Well, not much can be done about the past and dwelling on that isn't going to help me continue to move forward well. For the next 43 years, I now know the key to feeling good and doing more is about focusing on keeping fit and being well in myself. The more I move, the better I feel, the more I do. I am the kind of person who totally digs on the concept of 'more', so I'm going to stick with this and see where it leads.

First Week of Personal Training at the Gym

I'm so knackered, I can't think of any witty titles. I finished my session with my dreadlocked Personal Trainer (PT), came home via a greasy spoon, and spent the afternoon in bed.

This week, Rummy decided I wasn't allowed to sleep. I've had him meowing all through the night and last night I had enough. I put him outside at about 1.30. At 5 am I felt guilty and went looking for him, eventually I found him wandering round warily. Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep and he was totally wound up by the whole experience. He's still asleep. 

My PT sessions have been pretty damned awesome. Even with the sleep deprivation. I've done the most amazing things, that I never dreamed I could do. I've also got a lot of work to do, as today's session made clear. But I'm starting with a damned good base nevertheless.

People I can do dead lifts, I can squat with a 20 kg bar, leg press, chest press. Lunges, body squats, all of these I can do. Still can't do bench presses or even a push-up. That's okay. Before long, I will be dropping and doing 20! I've worked really hard. I aim to do at least 3-5 more reps, especially if it's hard. I want to get stronger. I really want to see what I can do.

Boy will be coming home next weekend and he and I are going to hit the gym together. Dave says he wants to come too. It's going to be me and my posse! I'm not sure how they're going to like my routine of 7 am starts, but in all honesty, if I leave it to the end of the day, I'm not going to be able to workout. I work at work and when I get home I want dinner and to veg either in front of Facebook or the idiot box. 

I miss the running though. I'm looking forward to getting back to my Zombies and Chapelfield Park. It's going to be interesting to see how the strength training affects my running, if at all. I'm hoping my stronger muscles will help my endurance and enable me to go further with more comfort. Shin splints are not fun. 

I also recognise I am filled with Newbie enthusiasm! I must be very tedious company right now. It's also having another strange effect. Dave will back me up on this. I'm developing an attitude problem. Situations that would have had me backing down and crawling off into a little hole to have a quiet rock and drool - no longer. 

I can run a mile in 9 mins 44 secs, I am starting to dead lift with an Olympic bar and you want to come here with that BS and expect me to take it?! HAH! I'm so done with that. It's a proper confidence, not a state that I have to talk myself into or that I think I should aspire to. It's simply - yeah, we're done with that. This is how we're going to do it.

How do I feel apart from the tiredness and muscle soreness? Good. Really good. I'm enjoying this experience far more than I ever thought I could. I've joined the gym for 1 month. It's a great place, I can have completely flexible membership, so if my finances crash, I know I'm not tied into anything. 

The gym is kinda weird really. I mean, outside of the normal allergic reactions I have to gyms anyway. When I walked in at 6.55 am Monday morning, I was really pleased that I was there. I was immediately comfortable. It wasn't overly busy, the guys there ranged from huge man mountains to weedy little scrappers. It's got two rooms. The weight floor is at the front and is the largest room. The equipment looks sturdy and well-used. The cardio and floor work room is out the back. There are a couple of treadmills, spinning bikes, a rowing machine and a weird piece of equipment that looks like a cross between a bike and a skiing machine. 

I saw three other women there today, the most I've seen. We nodded at each other and then  focused on our respective workouts - or at least they did. I was focused on my PT. He's great. He's a bloody good laugh, very encouraging and took this week at my learner's pace. We used our time together to establish where I was starting from and my goals for the next 8 weeks.

After next week, I go back to my running! Yay! I can't wait! 

Can you Hear me?

 (not the gym in question)

It seems I have been labouring under the misconception that I am an articulate woman. I always thought my communication was straightforward and direct. It seems this is not the case.

It seems that when I approach a staff member at a university gym and ask for a fitness assessment, I am actually asking for a Personal Training session. When I say I am smack-bang in the middle of the bell curve for weight/BMI/body fat percentage and am not interested in advice on nutrition, it means I really need to talk to their PT who specialises in nutrition advice. And it's okay, she's a woman, she'll totally get my specific needs. He kindly offered me a blow-by-blow tour of all the great cardio machines. I told him I was interested in strength training and he tried to show me the cardio machines some more. He was then slightly put out when I said I really wasn't interested and lead me past the weights to show me pictures of all of the PTs with their qualifications and big smiles. I stopped listening and nodded and smiled and fumed.

Everything I've ever hated in a gym rolled up into one neat package. 

(also not the gym in question)

Rows of neatly laid out machines, facing the big glass windows and the outside world. Slim gym bunnies bouncing on stair machines, the guys lifting weights over there. All very clean, attractive and so, not me.

I go to the Sportspark to swim. I could be tempted by the circuit training, except that only happens at lunchtimes and I'm in another part of the city. Everything else they can keep.

All I wanted was a proper, scientific assessment of my fitness. I want to have accurate data so when I start the next part of my training I'll have solid base measurements as a guide. I know, I know I'm odd. But you would think that the university gym, where all of these shiny PTs were trained, would be totally up for the odd. 

The PT I met on Tuesday evening, who might have been confused by my request on the phone was straight up about it. He might have thought I was odd, but he was up for the challenge. I'm meeting him for my first session at 7 am Monday and I'm now confident I made the right decision; about the gym and about him.

All I've committed to is three sessions next week. I haven't signed up at the gym or agreed to sign up. I can pay as I go. If I hate it, I will bail PDQ. I see myself doing two weeks with him and then fly solo, with occasional sessions to check my form and progression. Or at least, that's the Plan*.

Tomorrow, I'm off for a Yoga Day. I'm really looking forward to it. I know I'm in safe hands and the thought of spending a day stretching out and meditating is absolute bliss.

* we all know how well my Plans can work out

There is no Finish Line...

After my run yesterday, I could have crawled into my bed and cried. Talk about going backwards and painful: I was so slow and my shins, my word they hurt. Instead, I slapped on some Tiger Balm and made a phone call. I've got to the point where I need advice. But again, whose can I trust?

There's so much information out there and so much of it is conflicting. Like many other industries, the fitness industry seems to have fallen into different camps that really don't talk to each other and spend a lot of time slagging everyone else off. They want you to spend your money with them exclusively. Throw diet into the equation and Oh My Goodness, welcome to hysteria. 

I picked up and called a gym wanting a proper fitness assessment. When I picked up the phone I thought having a proper assessment of my heart rate and VO2 max would be useful to me as a bench mark. Instead, I got a consultation. I think it was a good outcome. I went down there to have a chat and a look around last night.

The gym itself is small, shabby and smells of sweat and testosterone. Boy knows it's reputation as a body builders gym and was immediately concerned. When you go in, you immediately see the weights. Lots of space to lift. There are a few machines and the obligatory mirrors. The cardio machines are out back. I didn't bother to go there. It always seems to be a surprise to some. I'm stroppy enough that I enjoy the surprise.

My consult was with a young, strapping, dreadlocked, dude. He listened as I told him what I wanted. 

Apparently, what I want requires a bit of adjustment on his end of things. Because I want strength and speed and flexibility. Apparently, it's more normal to want one thing and to focus on that thing. I think that's just mainstream blinkers and laziness from their programme design end. From my own tiny bit of experience, I know I got on much better on the bike, after I did my exercise DVDs. Yes, in order to be a better runner I do need to pound the miles on the pave. However, if my legs, core and arms are stronger and work more efficiently, I will be able to bring power to my running. Something, I don't have a lot of right now. There are some who say more muscle mass means slower. If it means better endurance and an ease in the aching in my shins, I'm totally cool with making the trade off. But something tells me that won't be the case.

I don't think I will be ready for the Norwich Half Marathon this year.

This realisation irks me no end. I would have loved to have been able to run it this year. It would have given me great pleasure to have done it. To be able to run against the regular runners at work. But there you go. That's about ego.

The goals I've set aren't about this year, or even next. I haven't given myself a time limit. I will do those 13.1 miles and when I run them I'm going to do it from a position of strength, not a position of ego and desperation to prove myself. The miles aren't going to go anywhere. But if injure myself or knacker myself in the training I won't be able to do it; I'll get pissed off and stop.

Fitness for body beautiful doesn't interest me at all. If I was that bothered about my general appearance, I suppose I'd have lived my life a lot more differently. I'm not also particularly interested in fitness for fitness' sake either. I don't want to turn it into doing a DVD, running on a treadmill reading a magazine. I tried that and could never make it stick. I'm not doing it for the weight-loss. I'm smack bang within the bell curves of weight for age and BMI. Yes, I'd love to drop half a stone (that's 7 lbs for you over the water), I'd love to be size 8. But realistically, I'm probably going to gain a half a stone with the strength training. My body shape has already started to change, even with the light and gentle start. 

By the way, lifting weights is unlikely to turn me into Arnold Schwarzenegger. Women tend not to build muscles like men, unless they are dropping steroids. Not enough testosterone. 

I'm doing this so Dave and I can go biking in the summer. When the weather is good, we can take off on our bikes and go have afternoon tea in a small village tea room a couple of villages over. Dave also fancies walking the coast of Norfolk and I'd like to be strong enough to do it and carry my share of equipment. There may be camping involved. But we'll see how that goes.

The running...well the running is for me. I bloody love it and I want to see how fast I can go, how far I can run. I belt out of here and the pleasure of running in the early morning, before the World is up and at 'em, it's all mine.

There's a race around Fritton Lake in May that looks interesting. It's a 5k, perfect. I'm also going to look for a 10k later in the year. Dave and I have laughingly started talking about triathlons and I confess, I'm more than a little bit curious. I'm not sure I'm brave enough to race on a bike, nor is my swimming good enough for that level of competition. Hell, I can barely stop myself drowning. But it's a nice fantasy. 

I've booked 3 PT sessions next week, stupid o'clock in the morning before work. I had a think about things and I'm going to have to hold off on the running for the next few weeks. I'm going to be asking a lot from my body and I've also got to be sharp enough for work. Gently, gently is the pace right now. Get my strength routine bedded in and then back to the running. It feels like the right thing to do. That's the plan at any rate. I'm sure Life has a stack of spanners to throw at me.

Bitten

That's how Dave described it when I said I was going out for my training while the rest of the UK was being battered by high winds. He said I'd been bitten by the Running Bug. I think he was exaggerating. It wasn't that windy in Norwich. And besides, I had one more workout to go before my Rest Day. Silly man.

You will continue to note that I say training, rather than running. There's still rather more walking than running going on; though I am gradually beginning to run more and more. I work hard for each and every slight improvement. The sessions leave me knackered, sweating and aching. My legs are a constant dull throb and I'm learning to live with the discomfort. At the end of March I'll be running that Sports Relief mile and in November I'll be running the half-marathon. From zero to hero in 40 weeks. Oh yeah.

I can't say I like it much. It's not at all comfortable. I have to do my training in the morning before I go to work. If I don't do it then, it doesn't get done at all. I can't train at the end of the day, I am just too tired. Work is very demanding and when I get home, I take my shoes off, dig something out of the fridge and disengage my brain in front of a screen. I don't particularly like getting out of breath and sweaty. My shins and calves ache all the time. There's no let up. 

Why do it?

Ten years ago, my mother died. It was my wake up call to the inevitability of death. I bought an exercise DVD, some cheap workout gear from Primark and some cross-trainers. Every now and then, between then and now I'd break out the DVD, write a blog about how much I wanted to get fit and take the shoes off, put the DVD back on the shelf and have another handful of chocolate.

Two years ago, I started having a lot of trouble with my lower back. I couldn't sit down for any length of time. I started popping ibuprofen like tic-tacs. A few sessions of yoga and a few visits to my osteopath got it to a more manageable level. It was becoming clear to me, I needed to move more.

Last year, Dave finally convinced me to get on a bike. I did and it damned near killed me. I dusted off my exercise DVDs and looked and my knackered shoes. The little bit of exercising I did made a whole heap of difference to the experience of going out on the bike. And then Dave bought me the Shiny Bike. We've not been out much over the winter, but as the nights draw out, the road is beginning to call. 

Over the winter, I've upped my exercise activity. I wanted to move more, to be able to do a little bit more. And then, in a vulnerable moment, I said I would do the Norwich half-marathon. More fool me.

At this point, I say this and I have no idea if I will actually be able to do it. I tell you what it's done - I am now one focused woman. I am in training, not just exercising. There is a point to my increased physical activity level. The Viking recommended Zombies, Run! as a fun way to  run and I downloaded their 5k training app. I'm so glad I did. It combines a proper running program with Zombie Apocalypse storyline and is way more fun than just running around and around my local park. 

Zombies, Run!

For Christmas, Dave gave me a heart-rate monitor. I can now keep track of how hard I'm working and it's been a very useful tool. I now visit fitness websites and have loads of apps to track my progress - fitness and weight goals. Yes, I am perfectly aware that they are fun to have and are not really necessary. Just as I don't really need to have three pairs of running leggings, long-sleeved running shirts or those shiny, expensive running shoes. I do feel a total fraud still. I'm not actually running...I am working up to it. I squeeze my body into the running lycra, put on my florescent gear and head out feeling like a total fool. I look like too much mince, shoved into a tight sausage skin. I suppose that's part of the other reason I run in the mornings - no one else is awake to point and laugh.

I'm also having to work on my running technique. I'm a heavy heel striker which is part of the reason I'm having such issues with my shins. By concentrating on adopting good form now, it will hopefully mean less joint and back issues in the future as I begin to pile on the miles. 

Speaking of my back and previous skeletal issues...my back is remarkably happy with me at the moment. To the point where I did some strength training yesterday and then went for a long walk around town. I was able to keep standing and move without any grinding in my hips or lower back. I didn't even think about it until I got home. No, I couldn't have done that in October. Walking around the city became quite uncomfortable very quickly and I adopted many strategies to avoid it as much as possible.

My knee is surprisingly quiet. No undue bitching or complaining about the extra work-load at all. It makes me wish I started working out far sooner.

Exercise is not a magic bullet. I am not going to suddenly become happier and healthier and go skipping through fields of daisies with bunnies, unicorns and rainbows. Training has given me an outlet for my emotions, it's a distraction from some of the stuff I'm really struggling with right now. In my weaker moments, it's stopping me from reaching for the bottle of gin and the packet of rolling tobacco.

The biggest physical challenge I've ever faced up until now was Boy's birth. I know I've got a whole heap of emotional resources to call on, I can face down most crises with confidence. Physical stuff...not so much. I've always been a bit of a wimp. Not now though. I've got my running shoes on.

Is there no end to the Madness?

Ladies and Gentlemen, if you're long-time readers of this blog, you'll know that I am one lazy-assed woman. I hate mornings, I don't like sweating or anything energetic and as for running...well, running is an evolutionary response to charging mammoths and we don't see many mammoths round Norwich, do we?

Yes.

Well, things started to change when Dave took me out on the bike. You may remember what a shambles that was? I turned to my exercise DVDs to get me moving, with some success. At least, I was able to get to the pub and back without dying...or feeling like I was about to keel over. And then I got a bike of my very own and the winter hit. I don't do wet and I don't do cold. Simple as that. No, I don't care if it's really bright...well, alright then...just a small ride.

In a vulnerable moment, my manager caught me and said "you are going to do the Norwich Half-Marathon in November, aren't you?"

People I don't know what the hell happened.

Dave hasn't stopped laughing.

I believe he's figured out my personality failing: if someone says I can't do something...I have to do it. Even if it's not in my best interests. Hell, especially if it's not in my best interests. 

When in doubt, go shopping. It's a rule of mine that works pretty well. Shopping for proper fitness clothes on a budget is a bit of a challenge, let me tell you. I've done pretty well so far, but even so it's stretched me somewhat. I'm not dressing to impress. People who run/cycle will spot me and go "all gear, no frigging idea." I'm dressing to be safe, comfortable and warm/cool* (*delete as appropriate). Tonight, I ventured into another sports store to find a light florescent running jacket that's going to be wind and rain proof.

You see I've signed up to do the Sports Relief Mile. Dave rightly pointed out that the Half-Marathon is only 40 weeks away. Oh, you think that's ages away? Hah. You forget I've given birth. I know the fallacy of that thinking. I'll start with the Sports Relief Mile and then aim for the Park Run 5k and then when I've cracked that I'll start training for 10k. 

First things first. 

The mile. 

Yesterday, I took my shoes for their second outing ever. I discovered that jogging/running slow is knackering and tedious. I liked the sprinting for short distances. I also get cold. Even when running.

I've got the App. It's called Zombies, Run! and it's awesome fun. It integrates proper training with a zombie apocalypse storyline. It tells me I will be running 5k in 8 weeks. I think it's dreaming, but there you go.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the proper shoes, the gear, the technology and now I can't put it off any longer...I have to run. 

Tomorrow morning, I will be watching this video. How about this for sheer, cast-iron determination?



Oh you can also sponsor me, if you like? 

Beware the Snake Oil Salesman

...if you're thinking about getting fit and healthy.

You think that there's conflicting "facts" about food? Hah! Wait till you try exercise! There's all kinds of sneaky ways to part you from your cash, without it ever making much of a difference to your fitness or general health.

To be fair, part of it is caused by consumers' apathy and fear.

As I meander around the internet and try to get to the bottom of how to move my bottom better, so it's not sagging towards the floor, I realised that PT Barnum was right. There really is one born every minute.

The sad fact of the matter is exercise is hard. It's called a workout because you have to "work". There's no magic pill, no magic fruit discovered by a botanist in the Amazon you can sprinkle on your porridge, or electrodes that you can attach to your wobbly tummy - they don't work. There's no quick fix. No fit in 4 weeks. No fit in 4 months, even.

The trouble is, people want to believe this magic quick fix works, and when it doesn't, they give up.

Fact of the matter is: want to stop smoking, put the cigarette out and don't put another in your mouth; want to lose weight, make better food choices - not so much, more fruit and veg; want to get fit...be fit for life. Put on the shoes and work. 

Harsh, but perhaps it's time we talked straight. Yes, I know there are thousands of reasons for that other slice of chocolate cake, that last, next last fag, the pint...well, it was a hard day and it's genetic. The reason I know this, is because I've said them all.

The changes to my behaviour came about because I really wanted to be a non-smoker. I really wanted to be under 9 stone. And I really wanted to be able to say YES, when Dave asked if I wanted to go out on a bike ride.

You know me. I'm the laziest so and so this side of the Atlantic. My favourite position is horizontal. Preferably with a bowl of crisps and a glass of naughtiness within arm's reach. I'm not a morning person. I've never met a calorie I didn't like. A glass of something naughty? Why yes, I'd love another.

I made a choice. I chose now to do things that feel good. 

Not comfort-good, or stress-good, or lonely-good. But proper good.

And it seems that exercise helps me feel good. Even when I can barely walk down stairs because of the squats. Arrgh!

I've said this before, I'll repeat myself to save you having to look up my words of wisdom. You don't need to spend a huge amount of money to be fit. By all means, do get a personal trainer and 2 chefs to prepare your nutritious and delicious meals. If you want to and can afford it - go for it. I've met some incredibly committed exercisers who've got PTs and swear by (at?) them. You just don't need to. 

I can't abide gyms. I hate them. Perhaps it's because I've only walked into the ones with the women putting on their make-up before they workout. The one filled with the really skinny, ecstatic fitness buffs. You know, white smiles, orange skin? I'm told that there are proper gyms out there, full of sweaty, blobby people focused on what they're doing and aren't at all interested in what everyone else is doing in there. 

Until I find the sweaty gym, I'll do my workouts at home. I'm not blessed with cash. I spent on good shoes and when I could, I bought my gear from M&S during their sale. I have enough space in my front room. Just. I started out with a selection of DVDs, but I stick to Davina McColl's simply because she and her personal trainers are fun to workout with. I started on her 3x30 minute workouts and this morning, I've upped the pace. I'm now on her Superbody it's 40 minutes long with extra sessions if you've got the time and energy. It's also got a low impact version of all the exercises. 

It has taken me 3 months to get to this point. I'm taking it slow. I have a dodgy lower back and a knee that bitches at me. I've been in an abusive relationship, I don't need someone in my face, shouting at me, even if they say it's for my own good. Dave is worried that I do it on my own. He thinks I should get a workout buddy to push me to do more. I will eventually, but at the moment, I'm enjoying sweating on my own. If I'm tired, emotionally or physically, I rest. My aim is to do a workout every weekday morning. However, if I need to insert a rest day or a rest week, so be it. Because in the long run it won't matter. I do this because it feels good. When it doesn't feel good, I'll stop.

Nerd Fitness is a website I really love. I know, I'll stop going on about it. I love it because they say women should train like men. Strength training won't build bulky muscles. Lifting weights is good for bone density, stamina and is better for weight-loss than hours of cardio. It means there's no need to take notice of the scales, strength training leads to increased muscle density which is heavier than fat. You've got to eat properly in order to strength train. None of this carrot juice 3 times a day nonsense. They also advocate heavier weights and lower reps. Frankly, that's heaven to me. Who wants to count 50 bloody bicep curls with 1 kg? Bored now.

I've got the urge to build up my strength and do it properly - in a sweaty gym with a punch bag. I want to start landing my punches. I want to get a barbell and learn how to deadlift. I've realised that there just isn't the time to do everything I want to do. I keep looking at my running shoes and my Shiny Bike. I have friends who I want to go swimming with. There just isn't the time to fit all of the fitness things in! Arrgh!

Perhaps it's just a question of going with the flow? As it's all winter-bleak-bleugh, I could stay in and do my DVDs, build up my fitness and strength and then in the summer, switch to outdoor-focused stuff. That sounds like fun to me.

Did I really write that out loud? 

Who, the bloody hell have I become? 

I want to do it. In my very gut I want to do it. And no, that's not this morning's smoothie acting up.

Do I expect to increase my life-expectancy? Will I get a body like Davina's? Do I expect that by loading up on these happy-exercise hormones that I will never experience lows again?

Hell no. 

I'm doing it now, because it feels good. I'm sure the evangelical stage will exit stage right as the habit beds in and go back to blogging about coffee, perfume and how much I hate the festive season. Don't even be thinking that I'm buff and fit and toned and bouncy. I'm struggling with my 1.5kg weights. I've got a long, long way to go...

Breaking In the New Shoes and Old Legs

There's mud on them there shoes - from running!

Yesterday, I finally worked up enough courage to lace up the new shoes on my feet and go for a run. It took me all day to gather my motivation and determination. And I did it. I did it a couple of hours after I got home from the office.

I did some stretching and then walked briskly to the park near me. By that time, it was dusk and there was a lone teenager who acted like he was desperately trying to hook up with his drug dealer. After I managed my first round of walking then running, he gave up and buggered off, leaving me to huff in peace.

Dave worked out my running schedule for me. It's a very gentle schedule. The idea is that I walk a minute, run a minute and do 10 rounds of each. Then next week, I increase the running, decrease the walking and again the week after, and so on until New Years' Day, when I will be running for 30 minutes non-stop. Or at least that's the general idea.

The first lot was a peace of cake, the second lot I started to slow down and the third was a bloody nightmare. I walked for another minute and I couldn't do another set of running. My shins were hurting with each step. I listened to my body and headed back to the flat.

I'd hoped to be able to do more than I did. But there you go. This is the reality of the situation that can't be argued with: this is my starting point. 

But the fact of the matter is, I still ran more than I did the day before! I actually got off my chair and went running. Me. The person whose favourite position is horizontal. The person who used to say that running was an evolutionary response to a charging mammoth. That's right. Yesterday, I ran.

Today, my shins hurt. I don't think I warmed up enough. I've been trawling through running apps to see if I can find one that does a video tutorial to lead me through the right warm up. All I've done is confused myself thoroughly. Besides, I like Dave's schedule. Even if he's going to have to re-calculate it to take into account the low starting point.

I've been thinking about fitness and health quite a lot recently, testing my motivation. I don't want to be unfit anymore. I don't want to feel flabby. I don't want to feel out of breath when I do things. In a year's time, I want to be working out at least half and hour every day doing something that moves me and gets my heart rate up: swimming, aerobics, running, cycling, dancing. Something that's fun to do. Something I can do by myself or with other people. 

I know people who've done the exercise fad. They said they would loose weight, get fit and managed it for 2 months tops. A year later they're actually worse off physically and emotionally than they were before they tried. It's almost as if the fact that they failed at this meant they failed at everything else. Next year, I want to be even stronger. 

Today, I've rested. Yes, I could push it, but I don't want to. I want to do this and enjoy the journey. In this, I suppose I'm lucky - I don't have an immediate medical condition that requires a huge amount of weight loss quickly. Therefore, I'm going to move a little more every week, eat a little more healthily, have a little more fun.

Seems to me that's a good schedule for a bloody good life.

New Shoes

Last week was very busy and very energetic. I got back to my exercise regime and my goodness the difference it made to my mood. All in all, I did two home workouts and then swam twice in the UEA pool. I also walked into town a couple of times and not at my usual slow pace either.

In all honesty, I can't say the exercise has upped my energy levels because when I went into work on Friday I needed matchsticks to keep my eyes open. After a few weeks of scatty sleep patterns, I've been sleeping very well again. 

On Thursday, on Dave's advice I called into the The Runner's Centre on the way back from swimming. I'm really glad I did. The guy who served me really knew his stuff. He assessed my stance and walk and pointed out my right arches weren't particularly strong. He then brought out a couple of pairs of shoes. He ignored my shoe size completely. He put shoes on my feet, let me lace them up and then he'd whip them off and kept trying until he was satisfied at the fit. He flat out refused to show me the cheap option.

This is the first time I've ever bought running shoes. With my dicky knee and dodgy back, I'm not entirely convinced this is a great idea. But there are so many benefits associated with running, I'm going to go for it anyway.

When I finally told Dave about my new shoes, he quizzed me on the whole process and then said "well done, they're a good investment." I was relieved. Ill fitting running shoes can cause joint issues, as well toe nail loss.

The best thing though was being able to go in and say what I wanted to do, without being laughed at. He was so helpful. He made several suggestions about having a look at Park Run and getting a running app to help me get started.

It then made me think about the shoes I currently wear for my workouts at home. The pair I bought were cheap and they've lasted me very well. They're 9 years old now. But when I felt the support around the arches, there's nowhere near the support I've got with my new running shoes. So, I went off to the sports shop and got some new cross trainers as well. They are so amazingly light and comfy. 

The runners are the flash ones with the pink soles. The cross trainers (grumpy shoes as I've taken to calling them) are the white with purple! 

The thing that I find so frustrating about myself is why I've waited so long to do this. I knew it was something that would be good for me to do and I should be doing it. Honestly. I suppose all that matters now is that I'm doing it and that I do it as long as I enjoy it. 

Oh, I also went for my post-40 health check. I'm not entirely sure why I should have much faith in their findings at all. It was supposed to be an assessment of my risk for cardiovascular disease. They checked my blood pressure, my pulse, height, weight and BMI and took blood to check my cholesterol. On the back of my results my risk has been calculated at 1.7%. This isn't too bad, I'm told. I'm told I'm well within the bell curve. 

Except my cholesterol wasn't a fasting test. And I have high cholesterol in my genetics. My cholesterol results came back high, but within non-medicating limits. Colour me unsurprised. Is it worth me taking any more action? I don't think so. The advice on the email with my total results was as generic as to be almost a waste of time: exercise, don't smoke and drink appropriately. Given I always drink with my legs either crossed or at least ankles together, I'm not taking it terribly seriously at all.

I begin to wonder if it wouldn't be a bad idea to have a proper fitness test at the UEA gym. 

Oh. Dear. Gods. 

Did I really type that out loud?

Week 2

So, how's it going with your resolutions people?

Personally, I'm finding more difficult to make decisions, not less. I find this somewhat frustrating. Mind you, deciding not to do the laundry or the dishes, is not taking any time at all. Nor is, ignoring the pile of personal admin stuff. Yes, I still think it's ridiculous that admin makes up both of my part-time jobs and my basket of paperwork overfloweth.

However, I have completed one week of exercising. Today, I stepped up the pace a bit. I'm doing a Davina McColl workout. Damned near killed myself too. But I finished it. Okay, so I marched on the spot during the interval training, but I did all of the toning stuff with weights. I have to say the happy hormones are fantastic.

This morning, I achieved a long-term goal. Something I have always wanted to do and have never done. Ladies and Gentlemen, today I touched my toes. Yes, you read right. I bent over with straight knees and touched my toes. How cool is that? Okay, so it's marginally less exciting that Victoria Beckham's pregnancy, I will give you that. But as my gran had been known to say 'small things amuse small minds'.

Your turn, how's it going? Are you flagging yet, or still enjoying the new experience? C'mon, fess up.

Three Cheers...!

Hip hip - horray! To Inspector Monkfish who came at short notice and took my computer to one side and showed it who was boss. Boy is now back on the Internet, and within 24 hours, has lost the frown lines which had taken up residence between his brows (especially when he looked at me).

I sent IM an invitation he could hardly refuse - come fix my pc and I'll show you a good time (but not THAT good a time). He turned up here and we exchanged news and gossip. He fixed my pc and I made him a chilli. The chilli was a bit of a disappointment, I used a different type of chilli powder - it said 'Hot' and it lied like a cheap rug. I'm going to dump it and go and get some from the local Veg and Fish Shop.

I even convinced him, okay, so I twisted his arm, to look at shiny cars. Well, who told him to say he was thinking about looking for another car? I have a sneaking suspicion I have developed a bit of an obsession with my car. When we finally went to the showroom this afternoon, both he and the poor sod of a salesman just kept on laughing at me. It's not my fault! It's really not. Just because I kept interrupting with facts and figures about the car (constantly) and I went on and on about the environmental benefits and economical bits...anyone would think I don't have a life and have turned into an anorak...oh...ummm...

Anyway, Boy and I are going to salsa regularly now. Tomorrow, we will be shaking our funky stuff at the Forum...if anyone wants to join us - please do, bring some blokes. It has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt what I've been saying for years...a single, straight guy who is willing to dance is never without female company.

When we went to Stalham on Thursday, we had such a good time. My feet didn't work very well, but I'm a firm believer in the 'as long as you don't stop moving, people won't care' School of Dance. It's good to be moving again, I hadn't realised how much my energy levels had plummeted until I started pushing myself.

I'm actually feeling very pleased with myself at the moment. I have been getting up earlier in the mornings and have been exercising every day before going off to work. I can't be too smug though, the workouts aren't exactly tough, they're the Rosemary Conelly ones and I've been doing the cardio one day, toning the next. But, I have to start somewhere and the good thing is, although it is hard work, I'm not as unfit as I was when I first got the dvd. I remember suffering to get half-way through. I can't even begin to think about doing the Nell McAndrew yet, it'll take a couple of weeks before I kill myself doing that. However, based on Amazon's recommendations I forked out for a Davina McColl set, but there is no way I can do that for at least a month. Those work-outs are really tough, even if they are only 30 mins a pop.

I suppose I'm just tired of listening to myself whinge. I like being fitter and healthier, I have more energy and I can cope with things better. I did it before and foolishly let things lapse, so I'm working it. I have a goal: I want to be 8 stone in 2 months time. I want to be fitter and stronger than I am at the moment. I know life isn't automatically going to become 'rosier', but I really won't miss feeling rubbish about my body shape, and sluggish and just generally bleugh.

So if you've made a New Year's Resolution to doing something similar, let me know how you're getting on...let's cheer each other on!

When the Going gets Tough...

...and the Tough have left, then it's only us chickens.

I added 'leaving wallet in car' to the list of Things I will Never do Again and moved briskly on. The car is brilliant, I loves it to bits. As long as other people leave us be, I think we'll be just fine.

This week also marks the beginning of my New Year's Resolution kicking into effect. Ladies and Gentlemen I actually got up early, two days running and exercised before I went into work! Go me. Go me. Okay so it's only two days, and two days do not make a routine, or an immediately fit body, but it's a start. Not only that, but I've been having soup at lunch times and, AND been eating nearly 5 a day! Oh yeah, I'm on fire!

I can't work up the enthusiasm for swimming as the weather has been so frigid. I know they heat the pools etc, but I'm a tropical flower and I need it steaming before I wade into any water. As it is I've got 3 layers on, which I think will ensure I continue to be single for a life-time. Lets face it 60 dernier tights and a thermal vest is not what you would call....alluring. I don't care, I'm comfy.

Despite the crap this week, I'm feeling more positive and energetic than I've felt for a long time. Long may it continue.

PS. Because I'm nosey...I'd love to know what's on your List of Things Never to do Again...go on, be brave, tell all.

Good Intentions

It's no good. Over the last few months, I have ground to a physical halt. I have done no exercise except walking. Yes, I have put on weight, *mumbles* about half a stone. But it's not that which worries me so much. When I revert to Couch Potato, I find that my system becomes sluggish; my energy levels drop. Everything becomes so much of an effort. Rather than keep with this downward spiral of feeling physically bleugh, I've decided to take up an exercise regime again. Wish me luck. As I have the will power of spaghetti, I will be posting charts, targets, goals all over my flat to keep me motivated.

My regime will occur indoors, behind closed curtains, in the safety of my front room. I've got a good shelf-full of exercise DVDs, I have weights and an exercise mat. It's not that money is such an issue I can't join a gym, though the home exercise route is the cheaper option. It's just that I'm allergic to gyms. They are filled with skinny, fit people, with wide, toothy smiles. I once went to a gym for a course and in the changing room, while I was tying up my hair I saw this woman. Her work-out gear was smothered in labels and she was busy applying makeup before she exercised.

I will keep you informed on my progress with this lifestyle change. The biggest problem I envisage, is crawling out of bed at 6 am before work, to exercise. That may well be my downfall. But to my way of thinking, it's better to keep with the good intentions, than to not bother at all.

Lazy Days and Tuesdays

This has been a very, very sore day. When I woke up this morning, I couldn't laugh it hurt so much. So tomorrow, I'm going back to the easier Nell McAndrew workouts, definitely. My goal tomorrow is a whole push up. Wish me luck.

My boy and I have been watching some serious hero stuff. Yesterday, we watched The 13th Warrior, with Antonio Banderas. Today, it was Kingdom of Heaven. Of course, I was researching journeys. After all, the 13th Warrior is a re-telling of Beowulf, based on Michael Crighton's Eaters of the Dead. In this instance the film is way better than the book.

Hmmm...I think I'm going to have to watch both movies again, next time I'll have to try and apply some cultural theory to them.

Monday Moaning

No, not really. I haven't done anything much on journeying except I continue to follow Mike Carter and his trip round Europe on the his BMW bike. I am thinking of getting in touch with him, because what he's doing at the moment, ties in with what I'm trying to do. It would be interesting trying to add a touch of critical theory to his experience. He's also got a blog on the go but it's a bit like a ghost town. Not enough angst to compete with the other Observer Blogs. Had I the resources, I would do something similar. Anyone out there want to part with your hard earned cash, so I can go a-wandering? No. Didn't think so. Just thought I'd ask.

Yesterday, the Anonymous poster raised point. If you want to go somewhere, you have to leave where you are first. Yes, I know it's obvious. There's always then a feeling that where you are just isn't interesting enough, or maybe it's lacking a certain something. If there isn't enough to hold you in one place, is the grass really greener on the other side? And when you get home again, does it stay home?

I suppose if you're running away from something, the change of city, country, country won't allow you to escape. If you're running to something, I suspect the outcome will be different. Issues around relationships, self-image, self-esteem are very portable. But if the traveller is actively looking for something...that feels different to me. It feels more of an adventure, a curiousity that needs satisfaction. And let's be honest, it is possible to do both at the same time. One of the joys of being human, to embody paradox.

Today, I worked out again. Nell McAndrew's Peak Energy. Damn near killed me. It's harder than the one I normally do which is Maximum Impact. I think I'll go back to the easier one and build myself up slowly. I am determined, I will have a flat stomach.

One day.

Aching Bones

I'm knackered. What more can I say? When the alarm went off this morning, I realised that I haven't exercised in a long time...everything hurt. But got there in the end, despite the lies and damn lies told by the bus timetable. Had to put up gazebos again, doesn't bode well for any camping I might be tempted to do, there was much useage of colourful language, slippery guy ropes and earwigs. Eewww!

Today's festival was a bit more frenetic. I spent time in the shop tent, running for the workshoppers, chatting to kids and teachers, litter picking and dancing. I really like the other volunteers; and the kids and teachers were just great. Boy thought so too. To the point where he was just about rioting when I said he couldn't go with me today, he had to go to school. I think he forgave me when I told him he could keep his t-shirt.

More Bhangra dancing! Just fabulous. In case you don't know, Bhangra is a harvest-festival dance, done by farmers in the Punjab region in northern India. It's a man's dance and is very energetic. NEAD have been having the same troop come down from Birmingham for the last 7 years and they are a real hit with the kids (and adults). They do a traditional dance to get the show going and then do a more modern version at the end and then they make everyone do a very simple routine to finish the show. It gets the kids and teachers shaking their funky stuff, which is brilliant to see.

I think what I like about their performances is the fact that they are men dancing. Performing intricate as well as robust manoevres and they make it look effortless and very masculine. Men in England, dance generally, under the influence of alcohol, or duress. Finding a man who will dance for pleasure is like finding a four-leaf clover. It's almost as if they feel it's effeminate, which in fact it isn't. Dancing in any form, is physically demanding and requires good co-ordination, balance and a sense of rhythm. I think it's a real shame more English men don't dance, they should take it up, if only to improve their chances with the girls. A straight Englishman who can move well, won't be alone for long.