Big lessons from little fighters

"You've already done the hardest thing", said the guy in his white Karategi and black belt zooming in on me, "you've walked through the door."

Phew, I thought, trying to stand straight and look strong.  That's lucky, because after a weekend of climbing and volleyball I really didn't feel up to working hard for the Karate lesson I was about to start.  Even shrugging my shoulders feels like too much effort.

But let me start at the beginning:  When Alex kindly offered to take me along to a Karate lesson, I resisted the urge to ask questions beyond the where, when and what.  I have learnt throughout my alphabet journey that I should just say yes and go before I have time to worry about it.  Fortunately, on most occasions I've had friends coming along as well, making it all seem more manageable.  Today, Anneka kindly skipped her circuit training to accompany me. 

For a moment we thought we might not find the right room, but luckily there was a big army of little people (3 years old perhaps) in red karategi determinedly marching towards one of the entrances.  "Hang on", I hear you say, "will this be another horse riding type event, where you end up in a kids class?". Not quite - but not far off!

The hall quickly filled up with red-clad littlens surveyed by proud parents on one end, and a mix of children, teenagers and adults wearing a variety of belts on the other. 

"You'll have to go at the back", Alex pointed out, and as you know there is no place I'd rather be. What I didn't realised was that "at the back" doesn't mean you can slob around wherever you want to - oh no, there are clearly defined rows and everyone knows their place.  Everyone... except Anneka and me...with lowered eyes we quickly tried to fill the gaps that efficient arms pointed to, and tried to blend in. Despite our best efforts, we clearly still stood out, and this is why we received the warm welcome I described at the beginning. 

I had asked Alex if there would be a warm-up, mainly because I'm learning that the warm-ups tend to be the hardest part of each lesson. "You might be lucky it's so hot, it might not be too bad."  Let me explain to you that Alex is ready to take her black belt test and generally oozes fitness.  "Not too bad" doesn't reassure me much. 

And rightly so; out of breath from running the width of the gym several times, I struggled to bear-walk backwards and only just about managed to gasp an apology to the black-belted guy who drew the short straw to be partnered with me.  He was kind and made sure to keep the jumping exercises to my level - he didn't even break a sweat.

We then returned to stand in our ability-based rows, where we practised steps and moves.  In the spirit of joining in with the spirit, I tried a very quiet "ahh" under my breath as I extended my arm to punch an invisible enemy. Too far though, as I was quickly set straight that the shout should only come during the second punch. I live and learn - no random mid-move shouting from me form here on!

Anneka and I then had a little break, whilst the others paired up and practised their moves.  A little girl, perhaps the smallest karate-ga in the room, stood alone looking sad.  When I went to speak to her she explained that she didn't have a partner, but happily gave me her time to explain how a block works.  For a little second, the amount of sheer cuteness drowning in her red suit made me forget that I was meant to practice attack and self-defence. 

Unfortunately, the coach hadn't quite forgotten about us, and soon as bobbing up and down on my toes, trying to punch a black-belter into his stomach.  No-one was hurt despite  my best attempts.

The final activity saw Anneka, another new starting adult, myself, and a number of hip-high people practice "kihon", basic techniques. I could not believe the focus determination, concentration and accuracy of these guys - a girl of about 10 years old was called over to show us her routine.  Without blinking she remembered each of the 50 moves faultlessly, working her way across the floor without hesitation. Ignoring the stamping, hissing and shouting from more advance peers around her, she seemed away in another world. Only the small smile upon receiving praise form the coach indicated that she was very much aware of her surroundings. 

Thank you Sprog for putting up with the posing - and Alex for inviting us along.

So would it be worth taking up Karate to bring you back to sports kicking and screaming?

1.  For beginner generic comfortable work-out clothing (and a good bra) will do.

2.  Beware - it's a bare-foot sport.  I know that this may be a deal breaker for some.

3. Whilst it is of course always nice to go with someone, as with other sports there wasn't really time to chat or to feel alone if you didn't have anyone to chat to.

4. There is a sense of respect in everything that is done - there is no answering back, giggling, chatting or getting to your place slowly.  

5.  There is also no slouching or carrying out moves half-heartedly. 

6. Alex herself took up the sport as an adult and is now close to taking her black belt.  So even though there were a large number of children, it is possible to pick it up as an adult if you are prepared to put in the work

7.  Don't be fooled by wise quotes regarding "peaceful minds and thoughts" - it is hard work.  There is kindness and an understanding that some things may be to too hard (yet), but you will be expected to give 100%... and because everyone around you works so hard, somehow you are inspired to give it your best.

8. Cost may be a consideration.  Whilst prices may vary depending on club and location, my understanding is that there is a fee per class, as well as a membership cost and additional costs for the belts. 

9.  From a lot of the classes I attended, I had the impression that I could go along when I felt like it.  Here, there was a sense of commitment.  If you are looking to take up something that would involve team spirit, becoming part of a community and something you work towards regularly, then this might be it.

10. Both Anneka and I felt that this would be a perfect sport to take up as a child.  The high level of confidence and determination that we saw even in the smallest participants was impressive.  Everyone was respectful and disciplined. 

11.  From a fitness perspective, in my amateur opinion I believe you get a good work out: Even after the hard core work-out, we were continually jumping and moving, and core-, leg- and arm-muscles I didn't know I had (or, clearly, don't have) were worked hard.

And with that, I will bow out for a couple of days of rest...onegaishimasu!

Getting to the ball like Cinderella

On this journey through the alphabet of sports, there have been some sports I have been especially looking forward to.  Volleyball has been very high on that list, mainly because people who play it always look very athletic despite apparently simply standing around until a ball miraculously falls onto their wrists. 

This meant that I was incredibly pleased when I found out that there is a "rock up as you are" Volleyball club in Ipswich - no registration required, check the Facebook page for time & location and go along.  Luckily, fellow trampolinist Max agreed to join me for moral support.

It seemed like a good omen when a car pulled up alongside mine in the car park, and a concerned mother asked me if I was there for Volleyball.  "My daughter is a bit shy - would you walk in with her, so she doesn't have to do it alone?" Ehm, yes please, because then I don't have to have to face strangers on my lonesome either.  And so I stepped through the double door with a 15-year old who turned around to wave to mum whilst telling me all about how her team is in the county finals. "And how long have you been playing for?" I mumbled something about hitting a couple of balls "when I was your age", which is more than her life time ago... 

The two guys busy setting up the nets in the hall were kind enough to explain how their team works:
- In the summer, they usually meet outdoors where they can play for free.  These sessions tend to be quite relaxed, people just getting themselves into teams and playing independently. 
- During the winter season, they gather in a school sports hall and work on drills, discuss strategies and work on improving techniques. 

Today's session was in the school gym because of the weather, and with 3 newbies (Max, myself and the young Lady) they kindly took their time to explain the basic rules and moves.

By the time we stopped practising serves, we realised that two informal teams had started an easy-going game - Ladies on one court, gents on the other.  I say "Ladies" - their mothers would look young to me.  I felt positively ancient, and out of breath just from the few practice shots. The two-hour session stretching ahead of me seemed unmanageable. 

An intense vibe emanated from the men's court: Guys with arms the size of both of my thighs (and I have sizeable thighs) were smashing balls at high speed, encouraging each other with high volume grunts.  I waited for a quick gap in the game to dash past them, into the serene safety of the women's' game.

Where I originally thought that the game principally involved standing around, waiting for the ball to find you, I soon learnt that during this game, you don't stop moving.  After 20 Minutes and many missed opportunities, I hung my head and admitted that I needed a break.  I guess unlike other classes, it is not possible to simply slink to the back row and take a little break, especially when you're only playing four a court.

I admit that I joined the game with an internal eye-roll:  After spending my working days surrounded by hormonal adolescents, I had been looking forward to a change of company.  But where I expected tutting at missed balls, harsh shots to score points and petty tiffs about team allocations, these girls really did carry themselves like Ladies, and taught me a thing or two about endurance, determination and team spirit.

One moment in particular belied their age:  After yet another messed-up serve from my part, a blond teen took me to one said and kindly explained that I didn't have to apologise each time I made a mistake.  "Look at it from the other team's perspective" she whispered, "they can only score points through your mistakes. Rather than wasting your breath saying sorry, just cross your fingers that your counter part hits the net also."

On another occasion, a hip looking player from the opposite team walked under the next half way through a game and asserted: "I cannot watch you do it like this any more.  Look, if you hold the ball lower and swing the other hand like a pendulum.... see, easy."

I didn't miss many more serves after that - and scored against her team.  We met half way for a high five, because my progress was more important to her than her score.

Throughout the (very long and hot and sweaty) session, I repeatedly thought how this group was summed up in one word: Teamwork. Eve though they were playing against each other they continually encouraged each other across the court, discussed tactics used by both sides and gave opportunities to practice shots were needed.

What the game did not look like

So might Volleyball be your chance to pick up where you dropped the exercise-ball?

1.  You don't need any equipment beyond the usual sportswear / good bra / comfi trainers combo.

2. Apparently, across the world, Volleyball has the highest female participation numbers of any sports.  The UK is a bit of an out-layer, but they'll catch up with the world eventually :-)

3. Whilst in this group, we played separate games, there is no reason why you can't have mixed games.

4.  Strength and speed may be factors, but what really carries you through is a strong team spirit and tactics.  

5.  At a higher level, there is a lot of high jumping and hard smashing, but at beginners level this sport is fairly low impact if you are concerned about knees etc. 

6.  Even though you move continually and never really stand still, it doesn't feel like a "run" - you forget that you are always running until you notice that you can't breathe. Definitely better fun than watching the slowly changing digits on a treadmill.

7.  Two hours felt really long, and it highlighted once more just how unfit I am.  However, the girls assured me that they noticed improvements in their fitness within weeks of attending. 

8. If you do manage to hit the ball just so, you feel on top of the world! (But don't take your eye of the ball whilst celebrating... I learn the hard way.)

9.  Between serving, spiking, digging and blocking as well as running, squatting, jumping and lunging you get a work out for various muscle groups without focusing on it.

I really hope that I will be able to go back again one day soon!

Tomorrow I'll be wearing flats...

First of all, I'd like to issue an official disclaimer.  None of this is my fault.

But in this case in particular it is even less my fault, because it was Kathryn's idea to talk everyone into attending a ((Bounce)) session.  I merely may have encouraged it slightly because I still didn't have an "B" based sport to write about for my sporty alphabet.

If you have read my post on trampolining, you will be familiar with my previous experience of trampoline-based exercise classes.  So you can imagine my face when Kathryn suggested that we attend a class which is in essence a crazy, mini-trampoline based workout session.  And it was definitely Kathryn who talked Karen and Krissy into coming along with us.

Upon arrival at the small community hall, I was greeted with the welcoming "Karen is having a nervous wee".  Well, if even Karen was nervous... Luckily, another first timer bumped into us at that precise moment, and we ended up making a deal:  If it gets too hard, we'll sneak out and meet at the pub next door. 

Once indoors we quickly nabbed four neighbouring trampolines in a hall filled with about 20 of them.  A handful of Ladies looked fresh out of a ((Bounce)) add, from the perfect hair to the branded leggings.  But most of us, including the one brave gent and the even braver primary-school aged boy, wore the standard uniform of comfi workout clothing and ponytails.  I felt reassured by the number of hands indicating that they were there for the first time.

After checking out the toilet facilities (all present and correct. Phew), I was ready for the introductory speech: 
- Keep moving, because any movement on a trampoline apparently burns three times more calories than on the floor.
- Every exercise shown will come with instructions on how to make it harder or easier, so that you can personalise the intensity of the workout.
- Some exercises and routines will be aimed for cardio, whereas others will be focusing on toning. 
- There will be regular mini-breaks and some longer breaks to catch your breath.

Now, I will publicly admit to something that may make me a persona non-grata in various quarters of the exercising community:  I'm not the biggest fan of motivational whopping into microphones.  Repeated exclamations of "you are looking gorgeous" when clearly every one in the room is a red hot sweaty mess just give me the urge to burst out laughing.  This is not a criticism, because clearly these types of sessions attract large numbers of women on a weekly basis and generate an income for an army of instructors.  It's just something I've learnt about myself:  I need to shut out the noise and just focus on the routine being demonstrated, otherwise I might guffaw despite the tears of pain.  

Soon we were all bouncing, trying hard not to jump up but to drive the legs down (don't worry - I spent the best of an hour trying to grasp the concept).  The fast paced music and the continually varying routines really worked for me here.  I knew that every few minutes I'd be able to grab a quick sip of water, and after every 3 songs there was a slightly longer break which allowed us to catch our breath.  

Most of the routines involved a variation of step- and arm combos at high speeds, and at various points of the session I found myself realising that I had no idea what my legs were doing.  However, as long as I kept bouncing to some kind of beat, I felt I was surely doing some kind of workout. This attitude was further encouraged by the umber of times we all turned to one another with shrugging shoulders, mouthing "what the heck is she doing now?" or "how did she... and why are they all facing that way now?"

During one particular song, we were asked to run on the spot at an ever increasing speed.  I was totally in the zone, counting 1 - 2 - 1 - 2 to keep going and - if not accelerating - at least not slowing down.  Suddenly I heard a hoot of laughter from Karen next to me: Apparently, the faces of sheer concentration and determination to keep going and not fall off from all of us made for good entertainment. And throughout the session, the number of laughs and smiles was something I found really encouraging:  It was hard work and most of us ended up facing the wrong way at least once, but the atmosphere was such that you could just laugh it off and get back on track. No-one had time or energy to watch anyone else, and if they did they would just about manage an encouraging smile. 

Chuffed about not having fainted during the cardio session, I was confident that the toning part would be manageable.  Well.  You try laying on a trampoline with your legs in the air and... well, I guess you had to be there, but it was flippin' hard!  I may have cheated a little bit and just done the laying down part of the sit ups. 

Leaving the room, we were all a sweaty mess, but we all agreed that we thoroughly enjoyed it and we  felt that we had had an effective and demanding work out. We also agreed that walking the following day might be a slight issue, and that high heels would not be an option.

Sweaty Betties, that's for sure!

So do I think this could be an activity to get your bounce back?

1.  You do not need any special equipment - just rock up in comfortable, breathable clubber and clean, comfi trainers.

2. And "rock up" you can to an ever increasing number of locations, just check out the website.  There are a number of similar classes with slightly differing names, but there will be something of a similar ilk somewhere near you.

3.  With regards to pricing, it was in line with the majority of the other classes I've attended so far.  What I found slightly less helpful is that it is all run via an impersonal website, and it took a while to resolve what I felt to be a very minor issue with a booking.  It looks like everything is run by headquarters somewhere unreachable, far removed from the instructor you meet on the night. the instructor herself was lovely, despite the whooping.

4.  Our group seemed very friendly, and as I said, there seemed to be a lot of newbies which made less threatening to me. On the other hand, if you do decide to go on your own, there isn't really time or breath to chat much.  So even if you haven't got a crazy crew to come along with you, you won't really have time to feel on your own because you're always too out of breath. 

5.  For every exercise shown, the instructor will give details on how you can lower the intensity - for example, just focus on your leg work and don't worry about the arms.  This allows people of all different fitness levels to to get the most out of it. And with everyone moving all the time, you can easily just bounce up and down or even stop completely if you need to, no-one will notice or care. 

6.  The exercises covered might best be described as Zumba-like dance routines with HITT-like work out intervals. So you might go from high knees to squats, from left to right whilst clapping your hands and end up in glute bridges.

So if you are looking for an effective and focused work out where you sweat and burn a lot for an hour, this is definitely worth considering. Perhaps consider bringing a towel, because it is one sweaty business.

Stepping into Quicksand

In August, we are panning to do a four-day walk around Lake Thun in Switzerland.  You can see, this post is a little different, as for one, I haven't yet done the sporty thing that I should do so that I can then write about it.

On the other hand, there will be a little less falling over my feet and a little more struggling to get my words out.

So if you are looking to read about my ditsy drill disasters, check back on in the second part of this post about walking - it will probably be called something corny like "walking on sunshine" or "something something pun proclaimers". And will hopefully be written at some point in the summer holidays, after I survived the hike around Lake Thun.

But we're not there yet.  For now, I'm trying to not freak out about the fact that I've agreed to walk for four consecutive days, through hilly terrain, with my favourite husband.  You see, walking freaks me out.

I know.  Crazy, huh. So much so that I feel I have to explain why this is going to be such a big deal.  I have to explain it because people don't understand my face when they excitedly enquire about our holiday plans, they don't understand my obsessive need to change the topic and they surely cannot understand my snappy responses when they express envy at the idea of strolling across wildflower meadows towards the candy-floss clouds.

The idea of going "for a walk" can give me palpitations, sweaty palms and can - occasionally - end in a panic attack. Because walking was part of the emotional and physical abuse I lived through as a teenager. And whilst I won't bore you with the details, I will say that people had to go to prison for child abuse at a time and in a place where they would have been more likely to be elected into political office than be detained for child abuse.  Just so we're clear on the scale.

And so, whilst people relish the idea of a relaxing wander along dirt paths, my head constantly calculates how many minutes I have left to still "earn my dinner", and whether I can afford another drink stop without losing the right to lie down to sleep.  And sleeping standing up - not as cool as it sounds, trust me on that. In the time that other walkers enjoy a break to look at the old church or study the map, my mental voice repeatedly points out that I am taking too long, and that I'll lose my shower for another week, not to mention access to clean clothes for the foreseeable future.

So when a friendly inviter points out how lovely it would be if I could join them for the next stroll, my brain kicks into karate tiger mode of  self defence.  Usually, I end up giving vague answers and dim smiles, and I know that sometimes, that can come across as rude.   Please know, I'm not trying to cause offence, I'm trying to manage with what I have. The alternative would be to say "thank you for the lovely invite, I'd rather sit on a fence post." And that would be highly unseemly.

Why not just say "I don't want to" and be done with it?  Because then "it" would have won. And I don't want that.  I want to be someone who goes on walks.  And some days, I can absolutely be that person.  Other days, I can just about summon up the energy to keep "it" in its box to get through a ramble.  Sometimes, I will have used all my energy to get myself there, and arrive to whatever starting point high as a kite on adrenaline and fight - usually, those are the walks where I end up on my knees in some random field, struggling to breathe because I've run empty. Where I blindly feel for an asthma pump that I know won't resolve anything but it will stop people staring. It will force the overwhelming emotions and make way for action.   And some days, painting my toenails is the closest I can get to "being active on my feet". 

I know that this walk will challenge me physically, because  covering 100s of meters of height difference in most likely hot or rainy weather is tough.  There's surely no need for me to reiterate that I am possibly the least fit person ever in the world, and carrying all my oxfam-purchased apparel on my back does not appeal. 

With that, I mean I know that this would be a challenge at the best of times.  And I know that sometimes, I just might not feel like going for a lengthy walk because it is the 27th re-run of my very favourite episode of "Call the Midwife".  Not every thing that feels challenging is based on childhood nightmares.

But I'm trying to say that there are reasons beyond the obvious as to why some of us really struggle with some stuff.  You might have your reasons and triggers as to why certain things are extra-hard for you.  You may not even fully understand what these reasons are, and of some of them you might think "but it was sooo small, it probably has nothing to do with it" or "it's so long ago, I'm tots over it". About some stuff, you might even say "but this wasn't even the worst part of what happened, so why is that having such a massive impact?"

It is totally absolutely OK to feel these things and to find them extra hard.  And it's also OK if some days, these things are even too hard. But please don't let them stop you completely.  Try again tomorrow.  Get someone to come along with you. Tell someone, ask for help. (Here's my hooray to those who have been there for me: HOOOORAY! And thank you.)

"Well, Anna, listen to your own advice then", I hear you mutter.  I'm trying. But the closer to the holidays we get, the louder the plea from my head: Cancel.  Don't go.  You can't do it.  

So I've written it all down here.  Now you know.  Now I can't cancel. 

And if I tell you I'm thinking of bailing, remind me of my own wise-ass words of advice I tend to happily dish out to others:

Don't let "it" win.  Lake Thun (and the world) is too beautiful to give it up to fear without a fight.

Courage, dear heart.  (CS Lewis)

The only way is up

Before starting this alphabety sporting journey (find out more here), there were in my mind three categories of sports:
1.  I'd never want to have to do this, but if I had to, I'd probably not die.
2. I'd never want to do this and I'd most likely die by even just considering it.
3. This sport will never touch my life. 

A food equivalent might be:
1. Tomatoes ->  I might just manage to not expire
2. Mushrooms -> I'd most certainly die of starvation
3. Tofu cheese -> I know it exists, I'm just not sure why

Indoor climbing was most definitely in the third category.  All other sports in the second. Climbing in any form was what crazy people would do between sleeping on beds of nails and analysing bug excrement. (My sister, my cousins, Swiss people who have not been deported to Suffolk due to lack of mountain climbability...) I know people do it.  But why?

However,  in the name of converting my loquaciousness into muscle mass, I promised to try anything as long as it starts with a letter of the alphabet, and so I recently found myself booking places for my husband and myself on a beginners' induction session at the local indoor climbing centre.

Friendly instructor Jack gathered our group of 8 clewbies (climbing newbies.  Clever, eh?) and explained that we would be given shoes that would hurt our feet by design.  As an occasional heel wearer, I thought I could totally deal with these.  Only later did I establish that "not feeling my toes anymore" was in fact a sign of having the wrong shoe size, and not an essential part of the experience. 

They look deceptively comfortable

After a brief safety chat (the matts on the floor will not stop you from seriously hurting yourself) and an overview of the practicalities (don't stand underneath a climber about to jump), and a brief warm-up, we were ready to go.  At first, we trailed our way along a horizontal "path", only a few centimetres above the floor. The floor in this case was a thick carpet-like material stretched over even thicker matts.

 Soon we were let loose to try out several "green routes" under Jack's ever watchful eye.  The green coloured hand- and footholds indicate the lowest difficulty grade paths.  In essence, you pick a difficulty level and attempt to get to the top only using the relevant colour holds. 

Once we completed the induction session, we were asked to sign a disclaimer before being allowed to independently try out different routes,  overhangs and even "topping out" - climbing all the way up and over the edge, coming back down on the other side of the wall via stairs. 

Before we knew it, we had lost over 90 minutes of our lives and most of the skin on our hands - as well as our initial fear of falling and failing.

So would this be an activity to help you climb out of your sporting valley?

- You don't need to own any kit.  Any comfortable clothing will do, and you can hire the shoes (for £3 at our local centre).

- Whilst this session came at a slightly higher cost than your standard weekly activity session, the price included the induction, shoe hire, access to the small gym and registration cost.  

- We signed up to the recommended beginner induction session, and I'm really glad we did.  Lots of tips and tricks and reassurance - and all the staff were very friendly and encouraging.

- There are further courses you can sign up to (beginner / advanced etc), or you can just climb independently at your leisure.

- There are also a number of courses for young climbers, and it is clear that children and young people are very much welcome.  Whilst we were there, I tried to memorise the route taken by a girl I'd guess to be about 6 years old.  I stood no chance.

- I had a lovely chat with a Lady in her 50s, who explained that she only took up indoor climbing (or bouldering, what I should really call it, but which doesn't work for my alphabeting) in her late 30s.  I asked whether she'd suggest a few strengthening sessions at the gym before attempting it for the first time - she felt there was no need for preparatory work at beginner level.  She explained that she had built up her strength and flexibility simply from climbing regularly. However, if it has been a very long time since you last did any form of exercise, it might be worth attempting a couple of push ups first.

- She also explained that it can be a very sociable experience; because you can't just climb up and down non-stop, you end up pausing, watching other climbers, observing techniques, and often find yourself chatting to like-minded people.

- Whilst I'm sure there is a massive deal of skill, strategy and strength involved in being a successful climber, I honestly came away thinking that a huge part of tonight's' enjoyment was simply due to confidence.  A couple of times during the inductions session I could feel the old, tofu-cheese-based me rearing it's head to say "I don't think I can do it". But because you're surrounded by a group you feel you can't really bail out - and I'm so glad I didn't.

- A quick search on the benefits of indoor climbing returned many results - from building muscle strength and flexibility to reducing stress and building confidence, this seems to give you the whole sha-bang of sporty goodness. 

- I was expecting to wake with sore arms this morning, but am surprised to find that instead my legs are aching. Whilst we didn't get out of breath, we did both get sweaty, a clear indication that your body is working.

Would we go back? They have a café area, so just you try stop me! Joking aside, I had a great time, and I was chuffed that I didn't chicken out.

Magical misery

"There is Magic in misery".  Not my words, I read it on a website dedicate to motivational quotes for runners. 

Any motivational quote  that contains the word " Misery" has to try harder. But then again, truth will out...

Running and I go way back, to when I first moved to the UK about 11 years ago.

I lived in a small flat just by the Southend Seafront, and realised that my total amount of physical activity each day amounted to the 3 minutes walk to the train station 4 times a day.  That is right - I'd spend approximately 12 minutes a day not on my sofa, on a train or in a swivel chair. 

Bliss.  But not sustainable. So I signed up for the Adidas Women's 5k challenge in 2009.  Because I thought anyone could just run 5k.  I mean, it's not like it could be hard...

My very first training run should definitely feature in the upcoming film "the public humiliation of Anna G." Also possibly in the book "the top 10 least thought through ideas of Anna G." Here is how it went: 

After years of absolute slothfulness, I set my alarm for 5am, walked down to the waterfront and started running.  "This is not so bad" I thought, "it's actually quite lovely.  I wonder why I haven't done this before."  And don't get me wrong, the Southend waterfront is a very peaceful place at 5am, and on a summers' morning when the fresh breeze makes the threatening heat of the day bearable, running may almost seem enjoyable. 

I waved joyously at dog walkers and smiled broadly at fellow runners.  "Look at us, us running types."  I ran for about 500m, to the Casino, and that was when a number of things happened simultaneously:
 - My lungs exploded.  Now, some may accuse me of hyperbole, but I can only recall the facts as they happened and it definitely felt like my lungs were combusting into fireworks of pain.
- My stomach protested against having been tortured in such a way and without nourishment by demanding a visit to the toilet. An immediate visit. 
- My legs seized up and refused to take another step. 

 My salvation, or so I thought, came in the form of a group of cleaners who were just closing up the Casino after their shift.  "Could I please very quickly use your toilets pretty please pretty urgently please and thank you?" "No." "Ah, OK, thank you please and thank you, could you get me a sip of water please?" "No." "Uhhm, Ok, not thank you, but please could you call me a taxi, I cannot move, please and then maybe thank you?".  "No."

That was the day I lost all faith in humanity - but regained faith in my body, that for some reason ( sheer indignation?) just got its act together. It was like "ooooh I'm dying - wait - no, my mistake, let's go home."

Over the coming weeks my distance and speed did improve slightly, but as with the many things that I do with full gusto and without guidance, I ended up by the first aid tent during the course of the actual 5k run.  Because, you may not have heard this before, but apparently running on a hot summer's day without drinking or eating all day (I didn't want a heavy stomach to slow me down) is not ideal. 

After that, I tied up my running laces and joined The Locker Room.  A gym for boxers.  Long story.  It didn't end well. 

This was until I moved into an even lovelier flat in an even lovelier location along the waterfront. By this point I had changed job and spent most of my days at my desk or in my car, fuelled by cans of coke and bags of m&ms.  Before you judge, I did switch to Maltesers when they became fairtrade. 

During that time,  I really struggled with sleep, headaches and funny kind of not-quite-migraines. It seemed the only way to get relief was to go out and jog it off, and one would think that I would have learnt a lesson there.  

Since then, running has come a long way.  A number of friends have been nothing but positive about  C25k, and social media is full of photos of people doing fun runs sponsored runs, muddy runs, colour runs...there is no shortage of inspiration and opportunity. 

For me, the most appealing recent developments in the running world have been parkrun and GoodGym:

- Park run is free and available pretty much everywhere in the country.  Once you have registered online you are free to run along, guided by volunteer marshals who will make sure that no runner comes last. 
https://www.parkrun.org.uk/

- GoodGym is a community of runners who carry out charity- and community tasks.  A typical session might involve meeting up, a brief warm up, running for a previously publicised distance, carrying out a task such as litter picking or gardening, running back to the starting point and finishing off with a short circuit session. 
https://www.goodgym.org/

I'll join both of them when I can run 5k without convulsing.  Don't hold your breath.

Post-run GoodGym circuit plank.  Hat & Gloves courtesy of Kathryn, because who would be prepared for the cold in January.

So is that first, hardest step, worth taking?

1. It's a sport you can take up with next to no expenses:  
- A pair of good trainers (I got mine after a gait analysis due to ongoing ankle problems) will be your key tool.
 - If you do think that you might try it more than once, I'd invest in a good pair of running trousers.  Nothing worse than having to breathe and move and think and pull up your trousers at the same time.
 - If you're a woman:  Sports bra.  Do it. 

2. Figure out if you're better on your own or in a team.  There are a number of running groups, from runny mummy to gutty goers (I made these up - but only a little bit.) So if you feel that the encouragement of others around you would spur you on, get in touch.  There will be a group somewhere near you that is designed exactly for you.  If, like me though, your biggest hurdle is embarrassment, run after sun set.  In the side streets.  On your own (if it's safe), or on a treadmill.  I have not run since I went with a friend who timed me  at 11 minutes a km out of shame- it's a massive hurdle for me, and something I have to manage.

3.  Plan your eating and drinking. Make sure you leave a good amount of time after a big meal before going out, but have a snack (bananas are often recommended). Ensure you are well hydrated in advance, and you may not need to carry water for short runs.

4. Don't spend all your money at once.  I have bought a runner bum bag, a phone-carry-arm-strap, light reflectors, ear phones... only to realise that any thing in any way additional aggravates me so much that I feel like ripping it off.  The only future investment I might make is a pair of leggings with a phone pocket.

5. Whilst running apps and schedules can be hugely helpful, remember that you are doing it at your speed. There are plenty of forums online of people discussing their struggles, and on days where you may feel down they are truly worth a read.  Need to repeat a week?  Got a silly comment from a passer by? Do not let it get to you, it takes a brave person to step outside and give it a go.  Clearly, a braver person than me. 

6. The running community is truly lovely.  On more than one occasion I have found myself lifting my eyes from the path ahead of me to be met with a breathless smile or a curt nod.  They get it. There was one particular evening where I had tried so hard to reach my goal that I didn't realise I had been talking to myself. "Keep.... going... past.. the... bus stop...don't give up... don't give up..." when I suddenly heard a voice coming from a dark door way: "That's right darlin', you don't give up, you keep going...".  The guy threw away his cigarette, gave me a thumbs up with a broad smile and left me with the fuel for another 200m.

7. I recently read a great piece of advice which I think could be applied to any form of physical activity for newbies, but particularly for newbie runners:  When you come home from work, put on your work out gear.  If nothing else, you'll feel comfi.  But best case scenario, the muse might kiss you and you find yourself running around the block. It's much less likely to happen if you first have to get out of your pjs...

Well... writing all of this out loud has reminded me that it really is high time to give it another go...

Excelling at Shavasana

I'll be honest with you, because that is part of the Yoga way of life.  Also, if you know me, you know I'm a pretty bad liar. My ears go red.  Like a sunburned Pinocchio alternative.

So, I did honestly think with all this exercising, I might lose some weight.  Yes, I wanted to have fun and try out new things and hang out with more people.  Yes, I am worried about my health and how my level of fitness could seriously damage the quality of my life. Yes, I absolutely had to do something about becoming trapped in an anti-sport mindset.  But there was a little tiny bit of me that thought I might drop a pound or two (look at me,being all imperial and stuff.)

So far however, I have actually put on weight.  I'd like to believe the old adage that I am probably gaining muscle which is heavier than fat.  But we all know that I am constantly hungry at the best of times, and over the last few weeks I have been positively ravenous. So my guess is that I'm feeling the impact of Doughnuts rather than push-ups.

However, I am not worried about that. Because with all the stretching I've been doing, I think that - rather than losing weigh to fit my height - I'll just grow to fit my weight. Honestly, whatever height hasn't stretched into me hanging from the rings in the Gymnastics session will surely have zen'ed it's way into my spine tonight.

But tonight wasn't about weight or height, or any other appearance based issues. Tonight, I went to Yoga with Lisa, and I tried really hard to get into the spirit of things. I don't know about you, but  think there is something seriously wrong with my mind. As soon as we were instructed to clear our minds and let any thoughts and worries of the day go, this is what happened inside my head:

- Are me feet smelly?
- I think the varnish is coming off my toe nails. Or is that just the light?
- Maybe it's the mat that is smelly?
- I hope I won't fart
- Do I look relaxed enough?  My eyebrows feel tense. But I AM trying really hard to relax my eyebrows.  Would she notice if I lifted my hands to check if my eyebrows are smooth and relaxed? (Peaks out of one eye.  Hears instructor repeat "Keep your eyes closed".  Darn - I might have to pretend that frowning is my natural relaxed face.
- I think it's my top that smells.  Did I put on deodorant? Do I need to add deodorant to the shopping list? Should I start writing shopping lists?  At what age do people start writing shopping lists?
- What, I can't believe the relaxing time is over, I've been soooo relaxed!

The other thing that is concerning is my absolute inability to follow respiratory instructions.  As soon as someone tells me to breathe in, it's as if my body's natural anarchic tendencies come alive, and insist that I MUST breathe out. Throughout tonight's entire session, I was aware of only one instance where my breathing was in sync with everyone else - I got so excited, I had to steady myself to avoid toppling over.

Anyway, none of this is going to help you if you are reading this to find out if Yoga could be the sport for you, so let me give you a brief run down the programme.

We arrived at the studio at the back of a beauty salon to be greeted by other friendly participants.  Soon, everybody had their mats laid out - I noticed that most people brought their own mats and foam bricks (to sit on and stuff.) I wasn't the only newbie on the night, and together we collected mats from  the back of the room.  My cunning plan was to set the mat out right there, as far back as possible, but Hazel (the instructor) mus have come across my types before...sneakily, she moved the mat a bit and a bit and a little more, and I found myself very near the front of the room. 

The group consisted of men and women of all ages, and friendly banter reflected that some of them must have been working together for some time now.  Soon the chatter calmed down as we were slowly progressing through a number of stretching exercises. Whilst from the outside, it didn't look like hard work, I felt relief each time Hazel instructed us to release from a pose.  I have also been reassured numerous times that I would feel the pain in the morning.  I shall keep you posted.

Whilst there wasn't an obvious "warm-up" session, there seemed to be a natural progression, and the poses and stretches became harder to keep as the seconds wore on. Hazel would repeatedly instruct us to close our eyes and to extend movements as far as we were comfortable with, sometimes giving suggestions on how a pose could be made more demanding for those who felt up to it. Despite my firmly closed eyes and the gentle music I could hear her walking around among us, instructing hips to be twisted further, toes to be tucked under and backs to be kept straighter.  She clearly knew her usual clientele well, suggestion a different stretch for someone with a longer spine and commending someone for having developed more flexibility. 

Having failed to find a clock on any of the white walls, I was surprised when Hazel announced that we would find our Shavasana (corps pose) to prepare for the end of the session - time really had flown by. 

Warrior princess Lisa

So I would recommend taking up Yoga?

- It seems to be very popular, with most local gyms and community halls offering classes at various levels.

- You may want to invest in a Yoga mat and some bricks eventually, but if you are only dipping your toes in you'd get away with investing in a pair of comfortable, non-see through leggings or yoga pants.

- Whilst people were friendly and welcoming, it wasn't the type of session where there was much opportunity to chat.  So if you haven't got a legendary Lisa who allows you to trudge along, I don't think you'd feel lonely or left out because it's very much an individual undertaking. 

- For most of the session, the lights were on - but for most of the session, we had our eyes closed. If you are concerned that someone might see you not do very well or get it wrong, get that thought right out of your mind (worry about your shopping list - much more effective).  

- Whilst I think the exercises are demanding on your muscles, I didn't get out of breath or dizzily hot.  And most exercises were adaptable, by which I mean I could do as much or as little as I wanted without there being visible difference to the untrained eye.

- Personally I am not the type to make noises on command, and enjoyed that there was freedom for that.  Hazel might say "release and relax", and some people might groan, some might exhale audibly, and others would stay silent.  I never felt I had to join in or not, I could just be the way I am. Despite my worst fears, there was no united chanting or humming.

- Unlike Pilates, which was solely focused on the exercise, it was clear that Hazel really valued the spiritual aspects of Yoga.  I also understand from her and other classes that this may be different, depending on the trainer. So if you go to a yoga class that doesn't feel comfortable, I believe that it might be worth looking around until you find one that hits the right tone for you.

- If you are looking to improve muscle strength, balance and flexibility, Yoga is definitely the way forward.  I don't know how it compares to other sports in terms of improving cardio fitness and endurance.

- With my very limited experience, I think Yoga is what I would call a slow developer - you might need to go a few times until suddenly noticing that your flexibility has improved or that you can hold a pose for longer.  I don't think it's the one for people looking for fast improvements and quick visible results. But if you are looking to improve your all-around well-being exercise, this sounds like great starting point.

Hazel modelling the necessity for good quality leggings

Plan "G" has failed... (luckily there are 25 other letters)

Today has started with a wave of crazy emotions: BBC Radio 4's  "Call you & yours" presented  programme on the barriers stopping women from getting involved with sports. They asked if I would be prepared to be involved with a short interview - you can listen to it here.

But only hours after asserting to the nation that I've loved every one of the sports I had tried out thus far, I had to admit defeat.  I had met my nemesis in gymnastics.

Rose had once again declared herself willing to come along - frankly, if she hadn't, I don't think I'd have gone.  Whilst with all other sessions I thought I might be the weakest in the room, with those one I felt like I couldn't even make it to the room.

Nervously giggling we placed our stuff into open cubbyholes, silently praying that the people in the gallery would leave soon.  At the same time, we were admiring the pre-teens flipping and vaulting in all directions around us - there is no denying, Gymnastics is a mesmerising sport, beautiful to watch. And gymnasts make it look so effortlessly elegant that perhaps I forgot a little bit the sheer amount of hard work they must have put into training for years of their life.

The warm up started off quite similar to the others - some running, some stretching, some stretching, and then some stretching which is unlike any stretching I'd ever seen before.  I tried my best to touch my forehead to my toes and wrap my elbows around my ankles and to bend my fingers backwards.. . If nothing else, I know that I've had a good stretch. 

It was the end of the warm-up-session that brought back my childhood nightmares: One by one we were to make our way across the floor in different ways: Cartwheels, handstands, roundups... Rose successfully joined in and even managed a headstand! But as for me... Was it worse to watch muscular bodies float faultlessly across the floor, knowing that I would never be able to replicate anything even remotely similar, or was it the moment my turn came and I couldn't even do semi-organised bunny hops? Was it when the ground chose to not swallow me up?

What do you call the feeling that tells 8-years-old you that the teacher made the team "pick" you? That feeling.

But this, too, passed, and it was free exercise time.  Hooray, I hear you say! Trampolines, rings, bars, pummel horses (which I for a brief moment mistook as weight-lifting equipment - who knew there was such a thing as floor-level pummel horses? Luckily Rose stopped me just in time before I tried lifting it). I didn't know where to start or what to do.  

Here's my bit of wisdom learned:  There are things you can give a go.  Things that you can make yourself do.  But there are other things that take years of practice, skills that need to be honed, muscles that need to develop.  So although the massive open gym looked fun - without a coach I simply didn't know what to do with it.  So after an aborted attempt at looking graceful on a beam and a couple of obligatory jumps into the foam pit, we decided to leave early for the first time in this project. 

But only to give me more hours to recover before the next adventure... Yoga!

Rose cartwheeling across the floor

So could gymnastics be the new thing for a new you?

1. Make sure you are prepared - make sure you have socks without holes and leggings without see-through.  Or maybe just be very confident.

2. If you can, book yourself onto a class.  Unfortunately around here there are no adult gymnastics classes, and other places I have looked at do adult sessions for people who are training for specific things.  The Walk-In session sounded great, but if you don't know where to start, it's a little overwhelming.

3.  Be prepared to start from the beginning:  I used to do gymnastics as a young child for a short time, and I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I thought I'd have some kind of magical muscle memory. Apparently that doesn't suddenly kick in 30 years later.

4. If - like me - you struggle with feelings of shame and embarrassment, then this might be a tough one.  There is no lights-out, back row, loud music or loads of participants to hide behind.  There's a gallery, and people watching.

5.  Have a plan, and work towards it.  I think if I had done my research, decided on the apparatus I'd be focusing on maybe even done specific exercises to build up relevant muscles, I wouldn't have come home feeling like the bottom of the foam pit.

6. If you are looking for a social club, then this might not be easiest place to start.  The warmest welcome came from the admittedly hilarious receptionist who tried to calm our trembling bottom lips with lighthearted banter. Other than that, no-one was there for small talk. This is not a criticism - once the free gym time started, it was obvious that the other participants knew exactly what they had come for and were prepared to work hard for it.  And how I envy them for their determination and focus!  I am only pointing out that - if you are not training for the Olympics - it may feel a little lonely. I'd would suggest you take a Rose-alike along.

7.  Laugh it off.  Be prepared to fall over / lose your balance / get it wrong.  If you feel that gymnastics is the thing for you and you're prepared to put in the work, I'll be all for you.  I'll be your loudest cheerleader. But for me, this has been the first session where I think "I do not want to go back there.  Not even a little. Not even ever"

Possibly the most graceful I had been all evening