The gloves have come on!

When I was a Teenager, I was desperately in love with a singer called Paddy Kelly.  He had long brown hair and the cutest dimples ever.  Looking back, he was probably better at posing for pictures than making music, but I am still able to sing most of his songs off by heart... (so are my long suffering siblings!)

During an interview, he explained that his favourite past time was kickboxing.  That has been lodged in my brain ever since, in the compartment for crazy dreams that will never come true. The adventure of working my way through the alphabet of sports has given me the perfect excuse of realising this long held dream of imitating my idol.

My heart dropped slightly when I saw Kes, who had kindly agreed to come with me, was waiting by the roadside, shrugging his shoulders.  Turns out the gym was very well hidden - more like a shed behind a house.

Unlike with any of the other classes I've ever attended, no-one came to greet us at the door or to reassure us.  After a couple of awkward seconds of searchingly trying to catch someone's eye, a stern looking man came over to explain that the jumping ropes were hanging on the hook, near the peeling posters of Mohammed Ali. We assumed it was an instruction and got jumping.

After a minute of jumping I thought I was doing pretty well, until I realised that this was not a short & sweet kind of warm up.  9 Minutes later I was gasping for air and glad that the torture was over... or so I thought. The many breaks I had to take had allowed me to glance around the posters on the brick walls and the other participants.  I'd guess the ages ranged from about 8 to 48, with the coach being nearer the later.  Surprisingly, to me anyway, the small group of about 10 consisted largely of women, and not a single show off muscle guy or gal in sight.  Just people working hard.

My inexperience must have been written across my forehead, because I was ushered to the ring for 1:1 boxing training whilst everyone else punched furiously at the innocent bags. 2 minutes on, 1 Minute break, and punch.  Look where you're hitting, don't move your shoulders and keep your hands up.  Back leg stays back, and keep your hands up and move your hips, but keep your hands up. Harder, watch what you're doing, hands up and back straight. Left.  No, LEFT! And keep your hands up, otherwise...

And the soft glove of the instructor made contact with me chubby cheek.  I guess I'll remember to keep my hands up.

Half way through the session we changed to practising kicks, and I was glad to step out of the focus and being paired up with a woman about my age. Jeanette explained that she started kickboxing 10 years ago to combat her anxiety and to improve confidence through being able to defend herself if necessary.  She recently gained her black belt and is delighted about the improvement to her fitness levels since she first started.

As the session neared the end, there was a change in atmosphere.  I just caught a whisper of "oh no, it's workout time".  I thought we had 10 minutes left, how hard could it be... you know me by now.  The instructions rained down:  25 push ups, 30 sit ups, and another 10 mountain climbers...  The bright side?  No squats!

So would kickboxing be a way of kicking the Netflix habit?

1.  We attended a free taster session, and the gym we attended works on the basis of a monthly pass which allows you to attend as many classes as you want.

2.  No special equipment was required - clean socks, gym clothes & a bottle of water will do you just fine.

3. If you would like to receive emotional support and a soft start, I don't think this would work.  But for me this was perfect - straight in.  Mistakes were constantly pointed out and suggestions on improvement made, as if it was the basic assumption that I was able to be really good at this.  And that made me feel really good.

4.  For all it's "hidden and downtrodden" appearance at first, it turned out to be a well equipped & thought trough space.

5.  Everyone was incredibly friendly.  Not necessarily the "lets go out and have coffee" kind of friendly but the "I see you are here to work and improve yourself, let me help you."

6.  Even though I was constantly pushed to work hard and try my best, it was also made clear that I could stop at any time to take a break. I guess if it has been a very long time since you've last exercised, it might be worth mentioning that at the beginning.

7.  The warm up & cool down sessions were physically hard and I was watching the clock for those.  But the actual boxing & kicking was such fun that I didn't really notice that my arms had started to ache and that I was out of breath.

8.  There was something really empowering about putting those gloves on - I felt I walked out with my back a little straighter.  I punch like a girl, in a way that kicks ass.  Or sandbags, as the case may be.

I guess this means heels off & gloves on! What's next, Kes?

Hold on to your noodle!

When I started this A-Z of sports for the unsporty, I was particularly excited about finding a fantastical topic for the letter A.

However, after some research I had to accept that the nearest Acrobatics classes for adults are in London, and an Archery lesson could end up costing a small fortune. And let's not even start on Aerial Yoga (I mean, let's, if you can get me a considerable discount).

And so despite initial protestation, I  conceded that Aqua Aerobics might be the most realistic option for me to attempt this side of 2020.

Perhaps because it didn't sound particularly flashy, or because it had been a tough old day and the sofa just looked so inviting, or maybe because it involved prancing around in a swimming costume, I have to admit that I wasn't overly excited on that Monday evening when I was getting ready to leave the house. But Rose had kindly agreed to come along for supervisory purposes, and so I guess I just had to get on with it.

If, like me, the thought of walking around in public in a swimsuit fills you with dread, I am pleased to reassure you that no-one was there to notice.  The class we attended was filled with women of all shapes, sizes and ages.  The only thing we all seemed to have in common was that we all wore jiggle-safe costumes.  Which was for the best really, because there was jiggelage a-plenty! Luckily most assets were held in place safely.

Similar to a HIIT class, the instructor showed us an exercise that we would carry out for 40 seconds followed by a 10 seconds rest before the next moves were introduced. I must admit that I was somewhat sceptical towards the actual physical impact of the class, seen as the first few exercises seemed to involve no effort.  It was only when Rose slowly leaned over and in a conspiratorial tone whispered "try boxing under water" that I started feeling the burn in my arms.  Amazing what water resistance can do for you.

I don't think I ever laughed as much whilst out of my comfort zone.  The face-planting whilst trying to water-kick, the near-drowning as a consequence of a core exercise and my complete inability to simply "sit on a noodle!" meant that time just flew by.  And I wasn't the only one:  Whether it was in response to the lighthearted instructor or sudden splutters emanating from the nearest "victim" to lose her balance, the lesson felt more like an outing with lifelong friends than actual effort.  But don't get me wrong:  It was effort, each repetition becoming harder and each Minute feeling longer.  But that's why we do it, right?  At least, as Rose said, you can't see the sweat in a pool. EEWWW!

So is Aqua Aerobics a class worth trying out?

1. To me, wearing a swimming costume is a real bummer. Maybe I shouldn't have bought a white one, who knows.  But maybe facing your fears and hang ups are as much part of a healthier journey as the actual work out?

2.  If you do think that you cannot possibly be seen in public in a nylon/spandex combo, rest assured that in this group, no-one will judge.  And unlike in other classes, in this one the back row is actually the back row - now sudden turn around that mean you're unexpectedly find yourself being the front row.

3.  The cost for a single session was £6.50 + £2 parking, although monthly passes are available.

4.  A swimsuit and a towel is really all you need (although some participants were wearing socks).  But I would suggest you make it a good quality swimsuit with support in the most bouncy areas.  Thank me later.

5.  Whilst there was definitely effort involved and I really felt the tiredness in my legs walking up the stairs later on, this session didn't bring me to the brink of breathlessness.  So if you are concerned that you might not be able to keep up with others, this one seems to be a good option to try out.

Although I'm now starting to wonder if stopping my car on a down slope without applying the hand break upon leaving the car park may be a sign of mental exhaustion? Maybe my body is choosing to burn rain cells instead of calories... that would explain a lot!

Pro tip:  Taking selfies in the changing area might earn you some weird looks.  Own it.

Back on the horse!

I was very lucky to grow up in a small village in Switzerland.  There was a church, a shop, a post office, a primary- and a secondary school and of course one crazy Lady who kept a large number of animals.

Being the offspring of two working parents and an aversion to sports, the only way I could satisfy my mother's never ending request to go outside "and play" (as if outside were fun!) was by offering that local legend to help with her pony.  

In return for the cleaning and walking and dog-poo-up-picking, she would allow me to every now and again sit on the pony whilst she led it on a lead.

I knew then that the only sport I could ever enjoy would be one where someone else did all the heavy lifting, so that I could enjoy the view from up high.  I LOVED it.

Unfortunately, in terms of easy access, affordability and convenience, horse riding isn't exactly fighting for the top spot.  That doesn't mean that a girl can't dream - and a dream is all it has been for the past 25 years.

But one cloud-heavy morning Amy agreed to go on a horse-back trek with me.  A quick phone-call confirmed that all would go ahead as planned, and that the drizzle wouldn't stop the horses from carrying us through the beautiful wild meadows of the flat Suffolk country side. Upon arriving at the stables however, it was clear that the flooding rain-waters had other plans...

The Manager suggested that we might be more comfortable riding in the hall, and seen as we had come all this way (and he reduced the price for the session), we couldn't see the harm in agreeing to that.

Little did we know that all the children running around in helmets weren't just there for decoration, but were actually preparing to start a riding lesson.  In the hall.  That's right, when he said "ride in the hall", he meant "join the kids' riding lesson." What could possibly go wrong.

Within minutes we found ourselves trying to climb the gigantic horses whilst the infants gracefully floated up on to ponies that matched their breeches.  A stern looking pre-teen pointed out that my way of holding the reigns was not in line with the correct technique, and that my toes should really "point to the sky".  

Whilst allowing my horse to follow the one in front around the circle, I tried to maintain a semblance of dignity when coming within sight of the proud parents filming their offspring - a quarter of my age, but allowed to ride independently whereas I had to be guided by a kid.

Instructions of "keep your back straight / shorten the reigns / angle your knees / don't allow him to cut corners" kept raining down on us, and I tried my best to keep up.  But when the horse fell into a slow-motion trot, all my attempts at technique made way to desperately hanging on to "Oscar", the bumpy giant.

The only time I felt confident was when I was instructed to come off the horses, as I thought I would have gravity on my side.  I'll remember next time that thigh muscles have their own way in getting you back when you overwork them for an hour...

Is this a sport worth taking up?  Here is what I think:

1. compared to the other sports I've tried so far, it's definitely the most expensive and least convenient with regards to accessibility.

2.  If you are looking to see a visible improvement in your levels of fitness within a short time, I don't think you'd get that from riding - although I do know that experienced, regular riders tend to have good core strength and leg muscles.

3. Whilst we did not need to buy any equipment but borrowed hats from the stables, I would imagine that regular riders would prefer to own their own which would be a considerable additional cost.

4. Depending on what you are looking for, it is a fun activity and I enjoyed being on a horse just as much as I remembered from my childhood.  So if you've never ridden a horse and cost is not an issue, booking a trek would definitely be a lovely way of spending a sunny Saturday. If you are looking to learn how to ride in a technically strong way, I'd suggest booking a private lesson.  Or pretend you're 7, if you can get away with it.

"No wrong moves - just accidental solos"

Whilst trying to figure out a way to capture in words the lack of coordination between my brain, arms, feet any anyone else in the room I experienced when trying out Zumba, I stumbled upon the above quote.  It made me chuckle - and confirmed yet again that I am probably not the only one to feel like that when trying out a new activity.

I was delighted to receive an invitation from Alison to join her for the weekly Zumba class held in her church.  I knew that I had built up a wall of anxiety around Zumba following an experience about 6 years ago, when I attended a class with a friend and had to sit out for 3 songs because song 1 absolutely took my breath away.  Not in a romantic way. I can't recall how it ended, but I think I may have left early. 

Ever since I'd feel a pinch of envy when I hear other people talk warmly about the classes that look soooo much fun, but that are clearly just too much for an unfitty like me. But as promised in my initial post (here), lack of fitness cannot stop me. Not anymore!

Before we fully entered the room, Alison and her mum (I know!  What a legend!) were greeted with warm hugs by the instructor, Dorina.  It was clear from the atmosphere and the chatter that most people had not only been before, but knew each other well and were happy to catch up with one another.

We found a little space at the back, far enough from the instructor to hide my many faux-passes:  It's totally NOTHING to do with me not knowing my left from my right - it's just I couldn't quite see her.

After a brief warm-up I was very excited to hear the Latino rhythms come on...I don't know what it is about that particular beat that just seems to make me want to dance.  And clearly I'm not the only one infected with that particular bug:  The Bangladeshi Ladies in their Kurtas were jumping to the beat along with the Filipino Ladies in shorts and T-Shirts.  A young Sudanese woman removed her head-scarf in preparation for some hp wriggling, whilst young girls took off their "Leavers" hoodies to reveal fitted tank tops.  The class was strictly women only, to ensure that everyone was comfortable to move, no matter what their cultural or religious background.  

And move we did!

 Everyone from 12 to 73 wriggled and twerked to the Spanish declarations of eternal love booming from the speakers, encouraged to keep going by clapping, whopping and flashing lights.

Still sore from the squatting and planking from the HIIT Session 2 days previous, I had to work as hard at suppressing pained groans as I had to keep up with the routines.  But the almost palpable sense of fun that was had by all, the laughter of those who bumped into each other when going in the wrong the direction, and the fact that I felt so welcome among like minded people gave this experience a real party-feel.

I could hardly believe my luck when the Instructor announced that we were coming to the warm down part of the session before I had chance to collapse.  Expecting a Pilates like laying on the floor and relaxing my mind, I was swiftly brought back to reality:  After quick lesson on the pitfalls of letting your knees go beyond your feet and the potential damage an arched back can do, we started with - you guessed it - squats.

So is Zumba a sport for the unsporty?  Here is my verdict:

1. From what I can see, it is available pretty much anywhere in the country; I'm fairly confident that there's a convenient location near you.

2. No special attire is required - as long as you can move comfortably & not worry if you get sweaty, it's perfect.

3. You most definitely need comfortable shoes & a big bottle of water.

4. The atmosphere was incredibly friendly - I wish I had asked the name of the Lady in front of me, seen as we spent most of our time giggling and apologising for bumping into each other.

5.  The class I attended was free of charge, but looking at alternatives further afield I found that most classes are very affordable.

6. As with other classes, the instructor shows different difficulty levels for each move, allowing you to do as little or as much as you feel comfortable with.

7. Similar to Clubbercise, the lights are kept low and everyone is focused towards the front of the room.  No-one can see if you have a little sit down and breathing break.

8. I have only attended one class, but I left under the impression that Zumba-ists form part of a tight-knit community - this seems to be the perfect class to meet people in your area and make new friends. And to hang out with old ones, ey, Alison!

(Next time, maybe we could just meet up for a sweat free coffee?)

Thank you Dorina for the photo - showcasing my beloved squats!

Forget the comfort zone

I have no funny backstory involving HIIT (High intensity interval training).  I mean, I wish I did, but all I have is cold feeling of dread curling up my spine every time I hear someone mention it. 

What is this HIIT that has you cowering in a sobbing mess, I hear you ask? Well, the idea is fairly straight forward:  Instead of lengthy lukewarm workouts, you work out as hard as you can for a short period of time.  This is followed by a short resting period, just long enough to recover your breath without allowing your heart rate to drop back to normal.  Simples, no?

Except that my first experience of HIIT (which was trampoline based) ended in a violent vomiting  incident (more about it here).  And then there is of course the fact that it would become obvious that I cannot squat-jump for 40 seconds without a break involving an ice-cream-van.  And that would only be Minute 1 of the 60-minutes session.

However, I did commit to trying out as many sports and classes as possible (see here), and so when Rose suggested that I join her for a HIIT class, my pride had to battle it out between collapsing into a tire or go back on my public word.  Most of the people I know and love have already seen me collapse in a variety of unseemly ways, so I didn't have much pride left to lose there...

And so yet again I rocked up at a local community centre with a churning stomach.  Said stomach dropped further when Rose pointed out that the class would take place outside:  Not only would all the participants and the coach hear my desperate grasping for air, no, any old passer-by would be able to see my attempts at a lunge. 

The format of the class is clearly defined:  A short warm up, and then you work your way around the different stations.  In the class I attended, we spent 40 seconds working at each of the 10 stations, with a 20 seconds break to move to the next station. We repeated the entire circuit twice.  The final part consisted of 10 exercises focusing on core workout, before we had a brief stretch and cool down session. The exercises varied from swinging kettle bells, lifting tires and battle ropes to planks, variations of squats and planks.  And squats and variations planks. Throw in some squats and planks... you get the idea.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Rose for not letting me back out; it was hard work and I do feel sore on this evening after the evening before.  It was sweaty and during more than one exercise I had to pause to catch my breath.  But I do feel that I had given it my all and truly earned my hot shower.  Today I wore my achy bottom with pride and graciously accepted help from students to carry books that my arms couldn't cope with. (I'm also grateful for dissuading me from cycling to the session - the heavy rain would not have been the only thing stopping me from ever getting home again.)

And I would like to thank the coach of Glutes & Gut Fitness as well as all the other participants - they were incredibly friendly, encouraging and helpful. Not just towards me, but also to one another.  The shouts of "come on", "you can do it", "nearly there" and "keep pushing" carried on across the session, and gave that all needed push to keep on keeping on until the desperately awaited 5 second countdown kicked in. 

If, like me, you'd rather paper-cut your nostrils than consider attending a HIIT class, these thoughts might be helpful:

- The session I attended was free for first timers.  A great way of giving something a go to try out how it feels.

- The class I went to usually takes place in a local community centre, either in- and outdoors.   There are so many varieties of the class in different locations, I'm sure there is something convenient near you. 

- You won't need to purchase any special clothing or equipment; everything is provided as long as you rock up in your gym gear, trainers and carrying a bottle of water. A towel might be an idea.

- It's hard.  Now that means it might be really hard for an exercise beginner.  But it's also hard for everyone else in the group. I promise that no-one will have time or energy to watch & judge you, but everyone will be making similarly grateful grunting noises when the anticipated signal for rest time comes on.

- It is really hard, but it's really hard for 40 seconds. So if you often find yourself watching the clock, this might be the thing for you.

- If - like me - you value efficiency, this might definitely be a class to consider.  There is no faffing.  

- Because everyone works so hard, everyone really appreciates the hard work of the other participants.  It felt like everyone was everyone else's most vigorous cheerleader.  If you need some positive feedback, this might definitely the place to fill your tank.

- There are intensity levels for you to choose from.  The 6kg or 12kg kettle-bell?  Lifting the bar straight up or adding in squats? Absolutely your choice - unless the coach thinks you're coasting... she'll soon let you know.

- You might surprise yourself!  After every 40 minutes stint that I managed to survive, I felt like I should be getting a medal.  And whether it was the positive atmosphere, the desperate need to safe face or the pouring rain, I managed to get through quite a few stints.  And never once collapsed into a tire or otherwise.

Would I go again?  I guess I'll have to - someone has to show those battle ropes who's boss!

My quiet place of peace and pain

When I first opened up my "alphabet of unsporty sports" to suggestions (read about it here), there were a handful of sports I hoped I wouldn't have to commit to.  One of these was Pilates.  It's not that there's anything wrong with it, I just always felt a but unnerved when walking past classes in the gym.  Too many bottoms stuck high up in the air - and let's face it, I don't need to pay to breathe in time with others.

But as luck would have it, among the first 5 suggestions I received, 3 were invites to Pilates classes.  Lovely.  My week had filled up with exiting and exhausting sounding activities, and I felt that one evening of restful restage wouldn't do me any damage, so I accepted.

In the true spirit of the "say yes before you think about it" women I am trying to become, I did not google "Pilates" to avoid panicking about it or deciding that it might be too hard. 

(Ok, that might be a tiny little lie.  I did google it but I only looked at images.  I was a little freaked out by people standing on one hand, but figured that might be the intermediate to my complete beginners level.)

So I rocked up at the local council run gym, at best feeling slightly worried that I might fall asleep in class due to lack of physical effort required.

Well. Well, Ladies and gentlemen, if you were under any illusion that Pilates is purely relaxing, let me tell you:  you are SO wrong. It was flippin' hard.  Not "I'm gonna die" hard, but definitely "she can't expect me to hold this position for another 5 seconds, surely!" kind of hard. The whole situation may have been made worse by my innate arrogance of assuming that it would be super easy. So when the instructor suggested that I might be best sticking to difficulty level 1 for my first class, I decided that I just wasn't a level one kinda gal and that level 3 sounded just fine, thank you very much. I know.  So wrong.

The first few stretches and poses went fairly well, and I did manage to hold them for the appropriate number of "breath in... and breath out".  However, when I started to feel my core shaking I decided to sneakily glace at the clock to check if we had 5 or 10 minutes left, I nearly allowed my belly button to touch the mat: 20 minutes to go!  

At that point I also learnt an important lesson about my rebellious self:  I don't like following instructions.  I don't mean consciously going against a command, no, because that would land me in trouble.  Instead, it is as if my body sneakily revolts by breathing out when she clearly said "breath in!".  The harder I tried to focus on fitting in with the Lycra clad masses, the more I fell out of sync and ultimately off my one knee that was holding me in place. It took all my remaining core muscle strength not to get the giggles.  

Reading this, you might think that Pilates really wasn't for me, and that I'd never go again.  However, surprisingly, I actually really enjoyed it.  I enjoyed feeling the stretch in my limbs, and whilst I wouldn't say I "enjoyed" feeling my sore core muscles for the following 3 days, I enjoyed the feeling that I had worked really hard.  And I also enjoyed the final 5 minutes, where we just got to lay on the floor and let our minds drift.  I drifted straight to dinner, although I'm not sure that was quite what she had in mind.

"So should I go to Pilates if I want to build up my fitness?" I hear you ask.  Here are my thoughts:

1.  Classes are very popular and offered in a number of church- and community halls.  There will be one near you, I'm sure.

2.  The only piece of equipment you may have to buy is a mat, although all the classes I've looked at provide mats for you.

3.  Comfi gym-wear is perfect, no need for special clothing

4. The pace is very gentle - you have more than enough time to watch the instructor and replicate his/her movements before they move on. No Bridget Jones moments here.

5.  It is low impact; I'm no medical professional but there is no heavy thudding on your knees or anything like that.

6. My favourite aspect was that - despite working really hard and feeling that I was working hard - I never was out of breath or sweaty.  Out of rhythm, but never out of air.

7.  With everyone so busy focusing on the instructions, the breathing, the music and the movements, no-one has time to watch what you're doing.  So if you need to have a little rest, just rest.  

8.  Do not fret if you haven't got a buddy to go with you - although of course it's always nicer if you do already know someone, the way the class is laid out, there is no real space for chatting.  You go in, lay out your mat (make sure you face the same way as everyone else), and just follow the instructions until they say "pack up".

9.  You may get to lay on the floor for the last 5 minutes and just do nothing.  I mean, it's a winner.

Party like we did in the 90ies

Huffing and puffing in the dark whilst waving glow-sticks to "What is Love" is probably one of the must fun memories I'll make on this sporty journey.  The one hour "Clubbercise"  class allowed me to go "full on tomato" without any embarrassment, as the lights-out policy meant that no-one could see that I was falling over my own feet. 

"You are very welcome to join me and my friend for Clubbercise on Wednesday", the message read.  It's only been a couple of hours since I've decided to try different sports and classes, and the old me is still alive and well.  The questions, aimed at working out suitable excuses, flooded my mind straight away.  When is it?  How much?  What do I need to wear/bring?  Who will be there?  And most importantly:  Exactly how hard is it? Because if it is before or after a certain time I cannot possibly make it, and if it's over my budget (i.e. for free) I probably can't afford it this week, and I don't own the right clothing and anyway:  I'M UNFIT SO I JUST CAN'T DO IT.

But luckily I had already publicly committed (read here) to trying stuff out, and so before my type happy fingers could spoil my plans, I replied "Yes".  The questions would be dealt with later.

And so it came that I arrived a couple of days later in the recommended basic leggings, T-Shirt and trainers combo at the local community centre.  Getting out of the car I heard the laughter and chatter of the other Ladies (yes, all Ladies, although I'm sure Men would be very welcome) making their way to the front door.  Another wave of work-out-panic nearly had me close the doors again:  They clearly all know each other.  I'll be the odd one out.  They'll all notice that I don't belong in an exercise class.  But before I could change my mind, a war voice shouted "Hello!  Lovely to see you!  Everyone, this is Anna!"

And with that, I wasn't the odd one out anymore, but walking with the group through the front door.  The £8 (£5 for the class + a one-off payment of £3 for the glow-sticks) were received without any questions or forms to fill in.  Just find a place, make sure you have space to move, and off we go. 

The coach lead a complicated routine of arm waving leg swinging and hip thrusting from the front.  In my most Bridget-Jones attempts to follow her, I managed to be in step approximately 17% of the time - but seen as it was dark and I was right at the back, that did not matter at all. 

My advice if you're planning to attend one of these classes?

1.  Make sure you take water.  It's very hot and sweaty.  

2.  Don't worry about a thing (what to wear, where to stand...).  It's dark.  And I found that everyone was there to work out and have a laugh, and literally no-one cared that I couldn't manage to lift my feet AND know my left from my right at the same time. 

3.  If you are worried that you get out of breath easily, do not be discouraged my friend.  After every 2 or 3 songs, there is a watering & breath catching break.

4.  Concerned that you may not be able to keep up with the intensity or speed?  Again, do not let that stop you. Whilst the coach may jump up and down energetically at the front, no-one will notice if you are merely high stepping or walking in place (or even just waving your arms).  As long as you try to keep moving in some way, you are working.

5.  I was very lucky to have a friend invite me to go along.  But I felt the Ladies were so friendly and welcoming that I'd be confident now to try out a similar class on my own.

6.  Any other reasons not to go?  No?  Didn't think so :-)

The harder you fall, the higher you bounce!

As promised in my first blog, I have started working my way through the alphabet of sports (read about it here).

I understand that the letter “T” is not strictly speaking at the beginning of the alphabet, but seen as trampolining is the only physical activity I haven’t given up on yet, I think it really deserves to be written about first.

In my first memory of a trampoline I must have been about 5 years old. My mum had decided to start exercising and bought herself a little mini trampoline. She must have been very much the mother of her daughter, because her exercise tool soon ended up in our playroom, relegated to being used as a toy. The purple zip-up leg warmers she had bought especially for this very nineties workout didn’t fully catch on either – I never knew why.

30 years later, I found myself in one of the trampoline parks that have popped up everywhere. With a group of friends I scraped together enough money to pay for the only acceptable (i.e. branded) type of trampoline socks and entered the small windowless room for the safety training. After 15 Minutes, now fully aware of all the dangers that may lead to SERIOUS INJURY OR EVEN DEATH, we emerged into a paradise of massive foam bricks, bouncy surfaces and probably a fair amount of kiddy pee.

We had the best time. It worked for me because the size of the venue, the number of different options of what to do next and the noise allowed me to take regular breaks during which I could ponder on my next activity (catch my breath in a non-too-obvious way). However, I guess it wasn’t strictly speaking exercise.

After that day, some of us decided to attend a trampoline HIIT class – same wee-drenched venue, but more squats and fewer smiles. If you are considering attending one of these but are concerned about your fitness levels, I’d suggest taking a friend with you for two reasons: It’s hard work and you may value the encouragement of another sweaty bouncer. And I was violently sick after my first session, so driving myself home afterwards was a tale of woe. It did get better fairly quickly, so if this is something you are considering doing I think you’d be onto a great thing – just be prepared for a couple of really though first sessions.

Once we’d settled in our new home in Suffolk I started looking for a similar venue, and found that the local council-run Gym offered Trampolining classes. In my naivety, I rocked up one sunny Tuesday morning last year, expecting individual trampolines and Ladies wearing neon sweatbands. What I did find instead was a massive trampoline propelling a young man into a backwards somersault. In most subtle way possible I tried to close the door behind me on my way out, but the coach had already spotted me. She smiled warmly, lulling me into a false sense of security, and said “You can leave if you want to, at any time – after you’ve had a go.”

Well.

Not only did I have the best of times, I also came out feeling like a flipping rockstar. After only a few lessons I had progressed to level 5! Only later did I find out that the first four levels mainly consist of landing on your feet and not falling off the trampoline.

A year later I still look forward to my weekly session; despite the grazed knees, bruised elbows and my absolute trump card, the black eye after punching myself in the face during a particularly enthusiastic attempt to land a clean front drop, I still really enjoy it.

My next series may be based on artistic activities that I also tend to not excel at. 1: Photography.

If you are thinking about joining trampolining classes, here is my summary of “sport for the unsporty”:

1. It’s really good fun
2. You get a break after every Minute or so to recover, whilst the next person has a go
3. You don’t need to invest in any specialist equipment or clothing
4. You are a team with the other participants, but everyone works at their own level – you never have to worry that your performance could impact on anyone else. On the other hand, you are never alone
5. You can rock up when you can make it. In our group there are people who attend every week as well as people who make it once a semester
6. Because there is waiting time, you have time to socialise and chat – getting to know the people around you can play a massive part in getting you off the sofa and back into the gym next week!
7. The perhaps only downside: You won’t get super fit super fast. Whilst you work hard when you’re on, there is a lot of waiting time between goes. However, if like me you are battling serious unfitness, this is an ideal class to build your confidence.

First (very slow) steps

I have just been for a run. I know - it's not a sentence you hear me utter very often. Definitely not as often as "I hate running", "I'm rubbish at running" and "I don't see the point of running".

Incidentally, I also went for a run yesterday with a colleague. You probably know the type: She's got it all together, is good at everything and always says the right thing. Despite running the worst time in the history of running apps, I came home truly inspired by the determination of a lady who went from being unable to run in March to someone who coaches and encourages others in June.

As we were running (read: talking), I realised that I might not be the only one ending her runs in tears of frustration. I'm not alone in deleting (and re-downloading) the C25K app. There are others who sweat their socks off, only to be overtaken by an old lady walking her cockapoo. Others who sometimes give up and need to find encouragement from somewhere to re-start again. And again. Oh, and again.

Over the last few weeks my negative attitude towards myself and my relationship with sport has been picked up on several times by people near & dear to me. There may be reasons why I struggle with stuff, but there are far greater reasons worth getting up for in the morning. I realise that my lack of fitness and self-appreciation may be stopping me from making new memories that may be so much better than the old ones.

So I want to set myself a challenge to change that: Over the coming months I am hoping to try out an A - Z of sports and blog about it. If you already do one of the activities listed below and think I could join you, please let me know. Alternatively, if you have been wanting to try one of them but have been waiting for your perfect "try-stuff-out" buddy: Ta-DAAA: your wait is now over. And if you have any suggestion to fill the gaps, please get in touch!
This may end up just giving me a vague incentive for moving more over the next few weeks. I may even find an activity that I truly enjoy. But maybe someone stumbles across this blog on a day when keeping moving seems simply impossible. It's not getting easier, you can't do it, it's too hard, it's just not for you... I hear you. Totally. And yet - no matter how bad you feel about getting up and out, there is no feeling better than coming home afterwards. Keep going!

Update: a month on, you can click on the links below to read about the activities I've done so far... Still quite a few gaps, so do let me k ow if you'd like me to do anything in particular, if you'd like to come along or if you'd like me to accompany you on a sporting adventure :-)


A: Aqua Aerobics
B: Bounce; Box Fit, Badminton
C: Clubbercise, cycling
D: Dance
E: Equestrian
F: Football
G: Gymnastics
H: HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training), home exercising
I: Indoor Climbing
J: jogging
K: Kickboxing, Karate
L: lawn bowls
M:
N: Netball
O:Obstacle run
P: Pilates
Q: Quads
R: Running
S: Sea Swimming, Snowboarding
T: Trampolining 
U: Underwater Hockey
V: Volleyball
W: Walking Day 1, Walking Day 2, Walking Day 3, Walking Day 4,summary on walking
X:X-Fit
Y: Yoga
Z: Zumba

Slow runners make fast runners look good. You're welcome. Anna