Reboot

There has been no running whatsoever since I aborted Wednesday's LSR attempt at mile 6. I had 14 on the schedule but even I can recognise when carrying on is pure folly. So I have rested ... in my own fashion! I've racked up a double digit week timewise on the bike for the first time in a mighty long time. I will confess that time and weather constraints mean that probably 5 hours of that was indoor cycling. For the rest of that time, I freed my bike from the turbo and made the most of the frost free conditions. I had a child free weekend (thank you Scout camp) so I even managed a nice ride out to Loch Lomond. This one: http://www.sustrans.org.uk/assets/files/leaflets/CLYDE%20LOCH%20LOMOND%202004.pdf

There aren't many nicer places to stop and have your flapjack and chocolate milk.

It's a decent enough route - dedicated cycle paths all the way from the city centre except for a short stretch when you pass through Dumbarton - and just gets prettier the further you go. From the grimness of Clyde-side through to the splendour of Loch and Ben Lomond. It looks a little something like this (not my pic - my hands were too numb to take photos!)

There's a stunning pic of it here too but I can't link. It's beautiful! Go check it out. http://www.flickriver.com/groups/1184068@N23/pool/interesting/

It's my longest ride outside in quite some time and although I have been spinning and turbo training all winter, I can feel the effects of a proper ride. DOMS in everything from my calves to my glutes, my core to my triceps (I do hills like Djamolidine Abdoujaparov did sprints - Tashkent Terrier coming through, give me a wide berth!) I love a bit of DOMS so no complaints there but it does make me wonder slightly about the different impact of indoor vs outdoor training. Outdoor is clearly better for a multitude of reasons - how many indoor races do I do? how much better does it feel to get a daily dose of vitamin D? - but time-wise, indoors makes a lot of sense. I can't leave my child home alone for an hour while I nip out on the bike but I can certainly spend an hour or so on the turbo once he's in bed. It made me wonder if I should be upping the intensity of my indoor sessions, or at least trying to replicate an outdoor ride more accurately. For me turbo sessions are fairly well regulated: timed intervals or  pyramid sessions working through the gears. Perhaps I should employ a more casual sort of fartlek principle? Hills outside aren't regulated after all and if you come across one, well you just have to get up the damn thing whatever it takes.

I have also dedicated more time to yoga this week (clearly I needed it - talk about tight!) and I have recommitted to my strength regime. I will admit that I had scaled my strength training back. I have several disciplines to master and many miles and hills to conquer - extra weight (be it muscle or fat) is not particularly welcome at this point. But truthfully, I feel like I'm being unfaithful to myself if I don't do it. I just don't feel like me. Putting in more miles on the bike has made my legs more muscular again and that is a truly welcome return to form. Regardless of what size I am, softness is just not me (and I don't care if that's what guys like - I do not). I need my muscles. When I have done the endurance thing to death, I fully intend to compete as a figure athlete. Genetically, I am not gifted with the ability to run fast or to go long distances. Anything I achieve there is purely due to slog and sweat. Figure training however - I am the right build, I have good proportions and I don't find it difficult to put on muscle. In terms  of genetics, I am far better suited to that. However, it's one of the few physical arenas where age is not a disadvantage. There are frankly amazing female figure athletes all the way up to women in their sixties and seventies. One of the few areas where age is not a barrier to success. It can wait till I've dispatched some other business first. In the mean time, there is some serious work being done ... and it's boosted my mood by a good 50%. It's me. It's what I need to do. I will have my body back the way I want it and that will give me the confidence I need to do anything else.



Splish splash

A post about swimming!

I should preface this by saying that I actually really enjoyed today's pool session and I do love being in the water. I just get a bit frustrated sometimes. To me, slogging my guts out usually equals success (eventually) and with swimming, this is not yet the case.

I had a really useful session today. The pool was surprisingly quiet and, for once, I actually had someone with me to take a good look at what I'm doing. As ever, it was not quite what I think I'm doing. My left leg has a slightly different agenda to my right. This is not a surprise to me but it's something that I have to always bear in mind. If I'm swimming breast stroke, my left leg corkscrews horrendously. It's less pronounced in freestyle thankfully but that's the side which fatigues more quickly and it signals this with a nice bout of cramp in the foot. The only way I've found to ease this is to not allow myself to slack on the pool time and just keep plugging away. Let the cramp subside and get straight back at it ... and then make sure to not skip any pool sessions. Essentially it's a case of thrashing it into submission. That lessens the number of cramping episodes at least but I suspect the old left leg will always be a bit wayward!

Lately the trouble has been that of the three triathlon disciplines, if I'm short on time the swim session is the one that's liable to get cut. I can jump on the spinner at home or throw on some runners and just head out the door. Swimming requires more time, even just in terms of getting to a pool (and making sure there are lanes available - ggrrrrr!) and then getting changed. I have decided that missing the odd swim session is something that could be avoided with some better organisation on my part. So, this week, I start on a new improved training schedule!

I couldn't find a decent sized wall planner (who knew they'd be so hard to get hold of) so I have hijacked one my son got free with his Nintendo magazine. I may well be the only (would be) triathlete around with a Pokemon schedule pinned up on the wall but the important thing is that it's all there now in black and white (and red ... with pokeballs) so it will get done. I always find that I have better success sticking to things that I've written down by hand. I've had schedules on excel, things I've tapped into the calendar on mobile phone etc but the ones that stick are the ones where I've the old pen and paper approach. Forges stronger connections in the old brain I think. Let's hope so and there will be no more skiving the swim. To be honest, I am looking forward to better weather so I can get into my wetsuit and do a bit of open water swimming. In the mean time, I will have to put my grumpiness aside and carry on with the pool sessions though I have yet to completely suss out what times of day the pools are less full of idiots. It seems to be never.

A few days later ....

I wrote all that several days ago. Since then, it appears that my hip has decided to leave my body through the nearest exit (except there isn't one so it's just going to bust it's way out). Well, that's what it feels like. I am not a professional of course, so it's not an exact diagnosis ;) I can still swim and the bike feels pretty much okay but, for the time being, running is out. I could pretend that I'm okay with this but I'm not, I'm really not - I am royally pissed off. Running is cathartic in a way that nothing else is and with everything that's going on right now, I need that outlet. Still, I am trying to be sensible because I want this sorted as soon as possible and doing what I'm really tempted to do (i.e. run through it) would cause far more problems further down the line. I need to borrow some patience from somewhere.

My boy will be away all weekend at the Scout's extreme winter camp so, with a weekend all to myself, I had big training plans in mind. I even turned down a date for Friday night because I wanted to be bright eyed and bushy tailed on Saturday. Okay, that was not the only reason but it was a factor ... as was just not being arsed (who says romance is dead?) I truly have no idea what I will do instead ... but I'm guessing it won't involve housework! The weather is going to be too awful for going out on the bike. Maybe I'll stick on some super-padded shorts and see if I can turbo my way through a film trilogy (though perhaps not the extended editions of The Lord of the Rings)

Already?!

I wasn't planning on another post just yet but  ...

Today I ran over thirteen miles. In the grand scheme of things, that's no big deal ... except that it's by far the furthest I've run in quite a some time and  I really enjoyed it. For all that I may spend a bit of time on a running forum, my running itself is really sporadic. Training-wise there are other things which I would rather do and my runs get shoe-horned in around that. That allows me to keep up a fairly decent running base when there are no upcoming races but lately, that's been about it.

Of course, I'm well aware that I need to get a few miles in my legs (okay, more than a few!) so I decided a couple of days ago that I would head out for a nice LSR today. My tactic when aiming for distance has always been to choose a new route. I find running the same routes frequently can be tough mentally. My usual 5K route for example; I know that, without fail, I will feel like walking before I've got halfway. I don't but that's the mental battle I'm fighting most of the way. With an unknown route, I won't know when the hard parts are coming and I don't know if there are any bits which may defeat me. Since I don't know, I rather optimistically assume that I can do it and, what do you know, I can. In retrospect, it's probably just as well that I hadn't checked today's route out in advance ... or I would have noticed that the first seven miles were all uphill. Hey ho.

As well as getting the miles in, another thing that I really need to work on is taking fuel on board during the run. It's not something I've ever really done. I experimented with a sports drink once on a training run before a half marathon race. All I got for my trouble was instant heartburn and a visit from my old mate Jimmy Smits (you do the rhyme). I had porridge with a banana in the morning and turned up for the race with a bottle of water and that did me fine. I had a small moment of doubt when I saw almost everyone else (i.e. everyone except the bloke standing having a fag and the guy who was running in jeans and converse baseball boots) armed to the teeth with gels. Kind of like the sports nutrition version of this:

... without the gun (or the apparent stick in the ass).

I think if you eat well as a rule and make sure of your carb intake in the couple of days before the race, there's no need for added extras during a half. Forty miles on the other hand? That will require fuelling. Since it's something I know I may struggle with, I'm introducing it as early as I can to maximise my chances of getting used to it. I have (as ever) been doing my research and a popular food item for ultras is Battenburg cake which just happens to be one of my most adored things ever to shove in my mouth. I love it!

There's something about the sponge and the squares and the colours and the marzipan - love it!!! It has been one of my favourites since I was a little girl so I'm taking this as a sign that me and ultras are made for each other.

In the realm of getting used to things, the final component of today's run was that I wore my back pack. It's not uncomfortable by any means but it's also not something I'd choose to wear if I thought I didn't have to. It did allow me to be very prepared however. I packed: two mini Dairy Milks, a flapjack and a banana, my phone, an MP3 player, a spare pair of gloves, an extra jacket, some money and my travel pass. I had no idea where exactly I would end up so I thought I might end up getting a bus back home (which I did). Strangely, no one sat next to me as I sat there in my soaking wet, sweaty clothes with salt crusting my face, blue-lipped, scoffing my banana and glugging chocolate milk. I needed the jacket and gloves because I get horribly, horribly cold after any run over ten miles. I did not need the MP3 player. Sometimes I train with music, today I was happy enough to just let my mind wander and I had plenty of time to think. I feel like I processed a whole lot of stuff that's been preying on my mind this week.

I also thought a lot about various people that I feel connected to and while I'm not a deeply spiritual person as such, there was a long period during the run where I just felt really fortunate to be out there, to have a body that is capable of feats of endurance, to be moving in a way that feels absolutely right and to know that I am lucky enough to have people in my life who get what that feels like and don't disapprove of my nuttiness. In short, my mind stilled ... and I was content.

I almost want to leave it there but I have more to say. Damn, there goes my big poetic finish! One of the other things I was doing during the run was visualising myself in the races I'm entering this year. Positive visualisation! I've been doing this on the bike as well (can't seem to do it in the pool ... yet). I also realised that while I think I'm merely urging myself on in my head, given the strange looks I was getting it would appear that I actually do talk to myself out loud. That might not be quite so bad were it not for the fact that I refer to myself by a nickname - bye bye dignity!

I'm also a bit clearer on what other strength and conditioning work I want to maintain while I'm training for this year's races. I am cutting my strength training to mainly bodyweight exercises and one free weights session a week and I'll also be making sure that I don't shirk my core work. As I started to tire today, I noticed a couple of areas of weakness (will be interesting to see how my adductors feel in the morning!) but nothing drastic. Anyway, it was a positive sort of day and I feel a bit better about the upcoming season ... and about things in general.

Shoring it up

Let's try again, shall we, and hope that the craptastic weather doesn't take out the power supply this time! I spent ages working on the most awesome post last night but it was cruelly snatched away and taken to the land of "shoulda saved sooner dumbass" so I bring you this offering instead.

There is a lot going on right now. It feels like someone's taken the contents of my head and given them a good shake around like a snow globe. When it settles, it'll be dandy but in the meantime chaos ensues! It's not helped by an astonishing number of petty little disasters happening on a daily basis - things (all manner of things) breaking, punctures, being late, sleeping poorly, ridiculous nose bleeds, forgetting stuff, unexpected expenses, niggly injuries. All very little things but there's always that moment when it starts to feel like the universe is waging a war of attrition against you. For the record, I don't think it is but I certainly feel like I could do with a holiday ... and it's still only January!


“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom"

That quote is from Viktor Frankl, the author of Man's Search For Meaning. It sums up some of the things I've been thinking about lately. I've been doing a whole lot of reading, a lot of it about sports pyschology. Physical training is by it's nature tangible and I've got a handle on that - the way I train my body is usually decent preparation for any given event. What I do not yet have a good grasp of is the mental side of competing. I have things that I say in my head to urge myself on in training, I know how to push myself. What I don't yet know is how my mind will respond to new race events, all of which this year have ever increasing numbers of variables at play. I quoted Frankl because the idea that we can choose our response appeals to me. While I am undoubtedly a thoughtful creature and given to ruminating, I am also impulsive, prone to tantrums and following gut instincts which regularly get me into trouble. If I get into difficulties in a race, I don't currently know which side of me will prevail - I might pull myself together and overcome but I just as easily might sit myself down at the side of the road and cry or perhaps throw all my toys out of the pram. There is value in keeping a cool head. The best example I can think of here is Chrissie Wellington; to get a puncture, cock up with your CO2 and keep it together enough to fix things and still go on to win the race? That is impressive and it's an attitude which I think is worth trying to emulate. So, in addition to the physical training, I will be continuing with my reading and giving the mental side of things a little more respect. I don't imagine that I will ever win a race (outside of school sports days) but I do need to come out of it feeling that I did my best. We're talking self respect here (though if glory does happen to come my way, I won't say no). Aside from that, I do really enjoy reading about sports psychology ... and so, the pile of books by the bed continues to grow!

Soon to be joining the pile is this little beauty which I have on pre-order:

Of course I want to read it but it was also part of a (very minor, honestly) online splurge. That was step one in my five point stress-reduction plan - to get myself a little treat.

Step two: some of the things which are currently troubling me are outwith my hands, so I'm going to go right ahead and ignore them. I'm not advocating avoidance as a life tactic though so I will be trying to address the ones that I can perhaps do something with. Sleep deprivation is my main issue I think. I am constantly tired, my training is suffering, as is my recovery and my appetite and I'm starting to feel at odds with myself and the rest of the whole world. It's no good and the effects are cumulative so it needs dealing with sooner rather than later. To this end, I am going to give ZMA a try. It can't hurt. Most of my research on it has turned up very positive responses both as an aid to sleep and in terms of helping muscle recovery. I found a few cases which showed no response to it and really quite a large number of people who reported extremely vivid and highly sexualised dreams while using ZMA. As side effects go, I have zero problem with this - if I'm dreaming, I'm sleeping and dream sex is better than no sex whatsoever ;)

Step three: keep moving forward. I have to confess while things are very hectic right now, it is mostly my doing. I have my big mega goal in mind and in order to get there, I need to get on with a number of things. Impatient as I am, I have launched myself upon a few different things at once. I know from past experience that it only hurts to start with and once I get a bit of momentum going, I'll be fine. Until that point, I need to just grit my teeth and keep going. Eyes on the prize, as they say.

Step four: accepting opportunities. Putting my big plan into action is going to require a bit of financing so this means it's time to get saving. Like most of us, I don't often have a whole lot of spare cash to fling around so I've been having a think about ways to raise some extra cash. I'm good with my hands and quite a crafty sort (we're talking hand crafts, not cunning) and I used sell the things I made at craft fairs, via commission etc. I stopped doing so because a lot of the textile art I was selling at the time was very personal and I felt horribly exposed at craft fairs, sitting there while people looked and judged. However, I had been thinking about maybe going back to it. The money would be useful and the repetitive nature of hand crafts is very soothing and therapeutic when your head is in a jumble. As luck would have it, I got a phone call this morning offering me studio space (for free!) I have been on the waiting list for this studio literally for years. It's part of an art co-op and they have great links with a lot of the local galleries so it would be stupid to say no, especially when I had been toying with the idea anyway. I do feel like a bit of a fraud on this one (me, an artist?) but the offer was made via a committee decision so I guess I might have a smidge of talent. That, or I was up against some real losers ...

Step five: EAT!!!!! This is a priority at the moment. My appetite tends to go bye bye when I'm stressed. Partly I just don't feel hungry but I also just get really absent minded about it. Case in point, today I made dinner for the two of us. Only discovered when the timer went off that the food was not cooked because the oven has died. Went to stick it in the microwave instead, opened the door ... and discovered my lunch still in there. I had made it but not got around to eating it and I hadn't even noticed. I can't afford to be missing meals. Running on empty is not a useful thing. So even if I have to write all my meals down on my daily to do list, I will make sure I eat properly.

Keeping on top of small things like this is the best way for me to navigate the currently very choppy waters of my life. I will extend my craptastic metaphor a little further and say that I am hoping for a return to smoother sailing soon. In the mean time, I'll just keep pootling along and hope that my body co-operates with me (though I think it might be time to take the old girl in for an MOT).  

Thinking a bit bigger

It's well known that I like a bit of a challenge! Truth be told, I don't think I've ever taken the easy route to anything in my life. I like to go the hard and painful road, it's just the way my psyche works. I think what I'm searching for is not the ability to say, for example, "I managed three sets of 100 press ups." It's more the personal knowledge that it was really fucking hard but I pulled through it. That's what I admire, that's what I'm after. Not necessarily the achievement itself but having the physical and mental fortitude to tough it out and the psychological power you can draw from that. I suppose that's why endurance sports have always appealed to me. I think it's also why I have a bit of a thing about The Biggest Loser!

I have to confess that I watch both the US and Australian versions religiously (and sometimes the UK one but I have far less interest in that now that Angie Dowds has gone). I cry my way through several episodes during Tuesday turbo sessions. It's phenomenal to see the amount of weight they lose and insane to consider the amount of training they have to do, especially given that some of these guys weigh two or even three times what I do. But what really gets me, and it's particularly well illustrated in the Aussie version, is the whole mental turn around. They come to the end of the series feeling like champions, believing in themselves and in their ability to go out into the world and make the life that they want happen. I don't have the weight to lose so I will not ever go on that particular journey but it does get me thinking about what I could do to forge a little more faith in myself. What could I do that would actually impress and inspire me? Because I am by far my harshest critic and that's no use. If I want my life to start going in a better direction (and I do), I need to be my biggest cheerleader. I need to be able to talk myself up instead of doing myself down. I guess I thought positive self talking was innate and I was thus screwed! Actually, if it's a learned and acquired skill then I could well be in business. It's a most heartening realisation.

I had a bit of a revelation this past week. All that up there? None of that is news to me. I know where I'm at mentally, I just haven't been able to find the key to solving that problem. My epiphany is likely not the key either but it might well be the first stepping stone towards it. My week started badly, very very badly ... to the point where I think I spent virtually all of Tuesday in tears: I cooked - I cried, I ran - I cried, I went to spin - I cried. Not good. It was a bad day. But in the midst of it, someone was there for me and I leaned on them a little bit and it helped. Not only did it help but the ground didn't crack open and swallow me whole, I didn't explode into a million tiny pieces, the world did not end. As with many things, I am good at supporting and motivating other people but not so good at accepting it in return. Clearly this is stupid. If one of my friends is sad, tired, in need of a hug etc I have no issue stepping up to the plate. If I'm thinking of someone, I'm happy to send them a note or a message just to let them know that they're in my thoughts but it's not something that I expect to be reciprocated. I just like to do it. Maybe I have been really dumb in not allowing people to do it for me. You know where I'm going with this, right? Yep.

"No man is an island" 

Turns out that I am not either. The tide has changed and lo and behold, a causeway has been revealed. I have a few challenges on the table for this year and one of them is to let myself be helped a bit more. I am an absolute horror for insisting on doing things on my own. I think part of that was borne of necessity and part is simply the single parent paranoia of needing to look capable and showing that you are able to do without anyone else. But you know what? I have done every single thing myself for the past 12 years so I think I can safely relax in the knowledge that I am capable. I don't have anything else to prove to myself on that score.  I think that by letting people in a bit more, I might achieve far greater things. That's the challenge I've set myself - to take help when it's offered, to accept the support of my like-minded buddies, to allow myself to be encouraged by others. In short, to stop being such a ridiculous asshole of a woman ;)

With this in mind, I have allowed myself to be persuaded into entering a 40 mile charity run in May. I do not expect that I will run the whole way (indeed, I do not intend to) but I do intend to cross that finish line. It may well be ugly but I won't be on my own (I don't need to be on my own - my mind is blown). That, so much as achieving the distance, will be the real victory for me. 

So 2012 is now looking something like this:

K2B 40 miler - it's a scary long way!
Thunder Run - trail running, yay! Camping, yay! Meeting lots of people, a scary yay!
VLT - just don't think about the swim ...
3 x 100 press ups: reboot - it's worse the second time because I know what's coming

and last but not least, opening the frigging door a crack and letting people in - might even be harder than the swimming ... nah!

A new synergistic approach - bring it!

Shark Girl - Needs Bigger Pond

aka "Will these hands ne'er be clean?"

It's not always easy to judge other people's motives. Sometimes even my own are obscured and it takes me a while to figure them out. More than once I have compared myself to Zaphod Beeblebrox because there are things hidden in my brain and the dastardly fiend that hid them is none other than myself. However, a life unexamined is not the life for me (as long time readers of this blog will know!) I have friends who, on the surface, seems to do loads in their lives and yet I see them making the same mistakes over and over again because they never look at why something didn't work out or how exactly they cocked things up. They never stop to analyse if there's something that's within their power to change to increase the chances of a positive outcome next time. Self examination can be a useful tool, when used correctly.

Stagnation

In recent months I have done the opposite; I have become weighed down by the process of trying to decipher what I need to do to move forward in my life. I have examined myself to a stand still. This is not good news. I am like a shark* - if I don't keep moving I will die. There are many things that I want but I was scared to fully embark on any of my chosen paths. Why? I am indecisive by nature, this is true, but it is also a cop out. When I really want something, I can damn well go after it. In fact, there are some things that I have pursued recently and they all have one thing in common. They take me away from here. For however long a period, they let me escape my current living situation. When I looked at that from the other angle I realised that the thing that was truly holding me back from training for a new career was not an inability to decide whether I wanted to be a PT/sports therapist/writer/nutrionist/hula dancer/whatever. The great big obstacle is that I don't want to train and put the effort into building a business here. I don't want to invest in this place. Short term, I can just about deal with living here but let's be honest. It depresses the absolute crap out of me. If I go for a run to lift my spirits after a hard day or as a nice wake up first thing in the morning, I don't want to have to spend the first few miles dodging broken glass, dog crap and pools of vomit before I get to some greenery. I do not want to be here.

Smallness not required

It's not just the physical or economic nature of my surroundings that grate. It's also the mentality of the people. I studied literature at university, mostly English lit but also some Scottish and the character of the Scot was discussed at great length on many an occasion. A lot of it was twaddle, as undergrad poseur ideas often are, but some it rings true. We can be an insular bunch ... and those who aren't don't hang around. They leave. I left and I should never have come back. Glaswegians are a proud people but I don't feel that sense of pride in my birthplace. It feels like some giant cuckoo brought me from elsewhere and sneaked me into a wee Glaswegian nest. It feels to me like this is not the place for people with big dreams. This is the place for people who will be content with a small life. There is nothing wrong with that. Contentment is something I still dream about achieving but I know deep down that my contentment will not come from zumba with the girls on Friday, lunch at Weatherspoons with my boys on a Saturday and standing on the touch line in the pissing rain cheering my man on in some bloody game of five-a-side on a Sunday morning, every week from now until the four horsemen come galloping.

I recently ended a relationship. I did not utter the words "It's not you, it's me" but that was very much the case. Why else would you finish with someone who is kind, funny, good at the things that matter (you know what I mean) and who treats you like a goddess? What sort of arse would do that? This sort of arse, that's who. He was happy with so little and at first I thought that was kind of sweet, and then it rankled occasionally and I began to suspect that long term, it would really begin to grate. I'm not talking about material things, they do not matter to me. I'm talking about the fact that he had no ambition, no desire to be better, to improve himself. I am no Lady Macbeth but I need someone with a bit of fire in his belly and, more importantly, someone with the vision and imagination to know that there are better things out there to work towards and the drive to have a shot at it. It's not success I'm looking for so much as the desire. I could not see myself in it for the long haul with a guy who wanted nothing more when he finished work than to pop home and get his slippers on every single night. Predictability is also not for me. When it comes to child-rearing and training schedules, I am all for routine. Otherwise, hit me with some spontaneity, go wild, do something different, keep me on my toes ... even if you annoy me occasionally! I would rather be annoyed than bored.

So I finished with him. I knew from past experience that I would struggle to stay with a nice guy and I needed to stop it before it went any further. As a measure of just how nice he really is, he sent me a lovely letter shortly after I ended it telling me how wonderful I was and wishing me all the best for the future. I have to be honest, it was far more than I deserved. Shark that I am, once my mind is made up I go for it. By the time that letter arrived, I had already put it behind me and had my next target in sight.

Addiction

It was perhaps not quite that cold but the truth is that I am an anticipation junkie. I need something to look forward to, something to entice me to keep going. The flip side of this is that once I get it, I tend to crash hard. It's almost like crash dieting where you abstain from, say, chocolate and so all your waking thoughts are of chocolate, you dream of chocolate, if you close your eyes you can almost taste the damn chocolate. So you say to yourself, on this date I will have a big bar of chocolate all to myself and I will enjoy it and that will be that, end of story. So you look forward to that date and you have the big bar and it is good but you still feel like crap afterwards because what is there left to look forward to now? Nothing. The anticipation, which is almost as good as the consumption itself, is gone and you are left with nothing ... until the next time. It's not the most positive of processes but it's definitely one of the ones that seems hard-wired into my brain. So how can I use that to my advantage?

Momentum

By using it to create momentum in my life, that's how. By anticipating positive events and outcomes that will then generate further things to look forward to. To this end, so far this week I have put one plan into action and have two more on the back burner which I will hopefully be able to get stuck into when the new school term starts. Phase one: I am training to be a nutritionist. Originally I had envisioned doing this as part of my PT training but if I do this first, I will be qualified to a level where I can work as a nutritionist while I complete the rest of the PT training. I'm very excited about this because it fits nicely into the master plan. I can set up online nutrition coaching and so the whole getting stuck in Glasgow scenario becomes a moot point and I can just get on and do it. The relief is palpable! I've been discussing a move with the other half of my wee family of two and he's given it a big thumbs up. Destination to be decided but to be honest, it doesn't particularly matter so long as there are decent public transport links (poor old Ma is not up to long drives these days). It may well come down to simply sticking a pin in a map!

*In fact, my nickname at uni was the shark, though that was more to do with my rather direct approach to the dating game!

Neo

I have time today to do a little research for an upcoming project which I am very excited about. There will be more on this later!

In the mean time, it is the start of a new year. This means I have a bit of housekeeping to do. In terms of body and fitness, this means taking progress pics and whipping out the measuring tape so I can assess the damage done over the festive season. I feel a little bit squidgy and slightly sluggish but it won't take long to sort that out. Easiest way to do so is to get back to my usual eating regime and that has already started. I have stocked up on fresh veggies, eggs, chicken breasts, oats, fruit and peanut butter so I'm good to go. There is still some Christmas cake and cheese knocking about but I'm not even tempted by it at this point. Ditto alcohol.

Training will remain slightly haphazard until next week when the new school term starts. However, this just forces me to be a little more creative. I might not get the chance to run as many miles as I like but I have enough kit in the house to get in a pretty decent circuit workout, I've got the turbo for bike training, the wee man's always up for a bit of MMA action and I've got a brand new book of bodyweight exercises to get cracking on. If I'm really stuck, there are also plenty of burpees to be done.

So, back to the thing I'm excited about. Actually, there are two things (maybe even three - too much excitement for just one woman surely!) I cannot actually divulge what they are just yet but look out for changes here shortly and some other very cool stuff to follow :)