Good news now that I’m off Bootcamp! September 4, 2009

Now that Bridal Bootcamp is over, this is excellent news:

Forget aspirin – big thighs could be key to beating heart disease

Study shows those with thinner legs are more likely to suffer cardiac problems

Big thighs might confer a health benefit according to a study showing that people with small thighs run a higher-than-average risk of developing heart disease and an early demise.

Scientists have found that men and women whose thighs are less than 60cm (23.6ins) in circumference are more likely to suffer from cardiovascular disease, and die prematurely, compared to people with thicker thighs.

Bridal Bootcamp June 29, 2009

OK, yet again I’ve been slack on the blogging front but I have a very valid excuse. Exercise has taken over my LIFE!

It’s now under 4 weeks until the big day and in preparation I’d been doing a moderate exercise regime for 6 weeks, produced by my rugby physio who’s also a personal trainer.  This finished a few weeks ago, at which time I asked for another programme from physio queen, stating that I wanted to be more hardcore and go for it in the run up to the big day.
She literally took me literally! My new programme looks as though I’m an athlete preparing for a competition. If my wedding day was sporting superstars, I reckon I would totally win!  It’s intense, it’s full on and it’s time consuming.  But, it’s also working – I’m now nearly a stone lighter than I was this time a few months ago and I even let people take pics of me in a bikini on my hen weekend (Um, but I’ve asked them not to post on facebook!).

So what’s the magic recipe? Basically, hard work, and lots of it.  Week one was 35mins cardio interval sprints three times a week with toning and core, plus extra toning another two days a week. Now on week three, I’m onto exercise six days of the week. Yesterday morning I was doing 45mins of 2mins on, 2mins off sprinting round my local park.  I think the kid on the swings was a bit perplexed the third time I struggled by – by the end, my sprints were more like feeble limps.  This morning in the gym for 0730, it was core and toning, involving gym-ball pressups (inelegant, and difficult!), tricep hell and another 45 mins cardio intervals, this time on the cross trainer.

Bridal Bootcamp

The Bridal Bootcamp regime means early mornings, motivating myself when I really really really don’t want to do another set of bilateral tricep exercises, and fitting in increasing amounts of exercise at the expense of some other things (no food shop this week, and minimal piano practice).

Alongside this, top physio lady has given me lots of nutrition information. I was a bit scared by her recommendation of six small meals a day, protein before and after gym and a list of supplements.  I admit, I’m not following this to the letter preferring real food! But the mantra is the same – I’m having rice cake and tahini before the 0730 gym, followed by a yoghurt or in some instances a protein bar (ICK!!). Then I’m having half my lunch around 12 and the rest later in the afternoon. I’m off bread for now and trying to avoid caffeine and added salt and sugar (although I had salt on my potatoes yesterday).  I’m also taking a joint supplement as I’m doing so much exercise and recently a friend got osteo-arthritis so it can’t do any harm.

It’s hard work. But the end is in sight and once I am a Mrs, I am going to have a lay in, chillax on the exercise front and eat a whole loaf of lovely crusty bread!

It’s official: morning workouts are best February 27, 2009

Writing about this article

I totally agree! I am rubbish at working out just after work, and end up yawning away.

I’ve been on a mission recently on the fitness front, with a 6 week programme devised just for me by our rugby club physio, who’s also a personal trainer. It’s quite hardcore, and I’m having to get up at 6am for 7am gym sessions twice a week to fit it in with the rest of my life. But, I’m a B2B and with less than 5 months to The Big Day, I can’t let it slip.

Looks like those early morning sessions are the way forward, if this article is to be believed…

Booty pain from boot camp September 5, 2008

Last night I went to ‘boot camp’ at a local leisure centre with some buddies from work.  We’d already tried another ‘body pump’ session a few weeks ago but I barely broke a sweat so wanted something a bit more hard core.

Hard core?  This was like Billy Blanks on drugs! (I love Billy Blanks’ Tae Bo exercise vid, especially when he talks to me through the screen saying “I can see you working!” whilst I’m sitting down drinking water).  My Cher Fitness (yes, I actually have done this – although not in the rancid outfits!) and Cindy Crawford videos were no preparation for this.  It was basically a circuits session but possibly the hardest one I’ve ever been to – which Rob will vouch for too.  As Rob says, us two are competitive types and being next to a group of lads fired up my legs for most of the session at least and I vainly tried my darndest to keep up with them, if not beat them.  I also got done for yawning, with 5 press ups as a punishment! Ooooof.

The good news is that this must have meant that I burnt about 40million calories as I sweated out pints and pints and pints.  The bad news is that as a result I had a beetroot-face, arms like jelly, a smelly t-shirt and enough sweat in my hair to make it look like I hadn’t washed it for a month.  Skankville!

To make matters worse I then had to go straight to the rugby club as I was on voluntary bar duty that night.  I managed to cool off a wee bit in the car but felt the effects long into the night as my right butt cheek gradually became achy and numb.  Doing bum stretches behind the bar whilst trying to serve lager and keep some semblance of dignity is not easy!

Well, all said, it was still an ace of base session and I reckon we’ll be going back.  Although next time I will not yawn, I will wear a vest instead of a thick t-shirt, and I will bring a 2 litre water bottle!

Getting back on track…here’s hoping… August 12, 2008

With apologies to my mate Rob, who’s fed up of diets, I can’t help but write about fighting the flab as I’ve come over all motivated today.  Hoorah!

I recently had 2 weeks off work which resulted in my fitness regime crumbling, my fruit intake nosediving and my alcohol consumption rocketing.  It’s sad that a bit of free time puts all my previous work to pot, but now that the normal service of a 9-5.30 job and meal times at regular hours has returned I feel I should be able to get back on track with B2B beautifying preparation (D-Day minus 11 months you see).  I also see the rugby season fast approaching and need some serious fitness work, having been out of the game for 10 months.

This morning I made a good start by managing to drag myself out of bed and into the gym (yawning, unattractively) by 0725.  A sleepy warm up on the bike was followed by some strength work, trampette running (harder than it sounds) and bounding/agility running to get the dodgy knee going.  I’ve also (foolishly) agreed to go along to a Body Pump class tonight with some girls from work.  I was looking forward to it until I found out they do 3 minutes (three. Three!) of sit ups with weights at the end of the class.  I might actually be sick.

Anyway, on the foodage front, as if psychic, a matey of mine emailed today and is also keen to have a bit of a blitz on the bod so we’re becoming Body Blitz Buddies.   Ideal.  I’m rubbish at self-motivation where not eating is concerned and especially where pear cider is concerned, so a like minded lady who I can share progress (or disasters) with will really help I hope.  We’re already on track – tonight is measure yourself and get a food diary night and we’re both out on Thursday for beer and curry, so already planning what low cal options will be best at the restaurant.

I’ve done Weight Watchers in the past and had great success at the time (which was boosted by being dumped and only eating maltesers, sparingly, for four days) – but over time I’ve slipped a bit I must admit.  I don’t want to get back to my depths-of-misery-lovelorn skinny minny look, but a few pounds off and a slightly trimmer waist (and ribcage?) would be welcome.

So, here goes.  Won’t bore you with my progress and food diary entries, but wish me luck…

Pilates pain, three days on! July 18, 2008

Tuesday night I went to my regular pilates class. Nothing exciting there, I hear you say. No, it was business as usual and as good as normal – my instructor’s ace and I love it.

this is SO not me

Anyway, at Tuesday’s session we did lots of side stretch stuff, including something called “the mermaid” (a bit like this). “Nice!!” I thought, “lovely, I’ll tone into a curvaceous aquaeous beauty. good one”. The pose involved sort of tucking one knee under another, over on one side, then stretching right over with your arm, whilst keeping the pelvis even. It was well ‘ard. I don’t think I looked for one instance like Ariel.

I pressed on regardless and enjoyed the pose. It felt good.

But then, Wednesday I went running at lunch and felt sore down my sides, like my ribs were bruised.

Yesterday’s run was much the same.

Today, I have not been running but whilst typing this my ribs are literally aching. This is wierd. Is it related to Pilates? I’ve played rugby and a good few knocks on the torso usually cause this kind of ache. It’s like my muscles all down my sides and into my back are having a bad day.  My ribs generally seem to be featuring in all my pilates blogs.  I’m trying to get them less sticky-outy anyway – perhaps this pain is just my ribcage re-aligning into a more slender silhouette?

Day Five June 27, 2008

Well, yesterday I did well at the cricket, even if I do say so myself. Packed up herring with green chilli (no mackerel or snapper available at Mozza’s), along with raw veg crudite, hummus (sp?), fresh fruit salad and for the boy – some crisps.

We smugly ate it whilst Somerset got bowled out in great fashion by Northants and my only lapse was a half of lager. Hardly devilish for a cricket spectator! We only got a few overs of the second innings, owing to rain – my excitement that I might get back in time to watch Gok’s new show was then rained on by the Boy, who insisted on watching the footie. “You said yourself, it’s rubbish TV” he gloated, whilst turning up the volume on the footie game. “Yeah, but it’s GOOD rubbish.” I replied, before huffing off to do jobs instead.

After that sidetrack, here’s Day Five of detox-a-rama:

brekkie – not much time, so grabbed slice rye bread with peanut butter on the way to the physio. 50mins of pain ensued with my physio claiming he wanted to ‘test’ my knee. Particularly testing was the sprint drills on a trampette, followed by backwards cycling on a weighted bike. I was one sweaty beast at the end – even had sweat on my elbows (elbows?!)

lunch – bean and veg soup again, for ease. Plus crudite and hummus, and fresh fruit (apricot, nectarine, apple)

dinner – beef tomatoes, stuffed with coriander and chickpea stuff. Prob some fresh fruit and yogurt for afters.

So, how am I feeling after five days? Well, I’d say OK, and probably less bloated owing to lack of wheat stuffs – but also feeling completely knackered (prob more to do with my social life, rather than the detox). The fact I’m not doing it to the letter, with the recommended exercises, probably counts against me. However, I’m going to keep going for a bit to give it a fair crack.

Having said that, I’ve a hen do at the weekend for one of the rugby girls – I can’t see brown rice and carrot juice featuring in that evening! Mmmmmm. Beeeeeeeer.

Fitness..at any cost. Apart from where dignity’s concerned April 16, 2008

I got back from a run earlier in the week and decided I still had energy enough to do something else.  So the stepper got dusted off and the trampette un-elegantly manhandled from it’s usual behind the sofa position.  Daytime telly on, pint of water nearby, and I was off.

 

After 10mins on the stepper, I moved on to the trampette and ‘ran’ on it with high knees and arms pumping for all of a minute.  I would have done more, I could have done more – but I happened to see my neighbour pull up in his car opposite (light afternoons, the curtains are open).  Utterly mortified that he may see me bounding like a loony through the bay window, I promptly hopped off, grabbed the nearest mag (Viz, of all things) and bundled onto the sofa whilst trying to look normal. With a sweaty face and bad scraped back hair. And Viz magazine, upside down.

 

OK, so why should I care if the nice neighbour (old, not someone I’m trying to impress) saw me?  I go out running and do other sports in public view, after all.  I think it’s just the fact I’m doing it in the living room -  there’s something slightly shameful about exercising in your front room when there’s perfectly good parks to run round, gyms to visit and leisure centre changing rooms to be disgusted by.  I think the trampette just made it worse.  Of all things to be doing, jumpin’ around is not the most elegant. 

 

I think in future, whenever I wang on the Thai-Bo vid or decide that I will use the gym ball, I must shut the curtains.