Top tips (or how not to waste 6000 hours of your life

I've been going to the gym for years, in fact I've been a member of my current gym for at least 20 years. I added it up the other day and realised I've probably spent in excess of 6000 hours in that gym. I've sweated through classes, weights, HIIT training. I've had personal trainers, boot camp, boxing and I've done my own thing. I've gone for the social, the peace of mind and of course the physical.

I've also tried almost every diet program ever conceived.

And on the way I've learned some things.

For those of you who don't have 20 years (or 6000 hours) to spare. Here is the total of what I've learned.

1. Weight loss is not just calories in vs calories out.
Don't get me wrong, you have to create a calorie deficit to lose weight, but the type of food you eat is crucial. Yes (for those of you who do weight watchers) crumpets are low in points (red calories). But two crumpets with weight watchers jam (let's call it 'spread') will not only put chemicals into your body that were never supposed to be there, they'll have you hungry one hour later. Not to mention the impact they had on my metabolism. I've been there, done that, and the results were like being on a merry go round. I'd go on a strict eating program, loose weight for the first month, stop losing weight and pile it back on again. Repeat process annually.
Tip number 1: It's important to keep an eye on calories, but don't let them rule you

2. Protein not carbs
How many years did I base my diet on processed, low fat, carbs. Too many! And I was ALWAYS hungry. Since I started balancing my meals with protein I've felt less hungry, built some muscle and had a more stable weight. Tip number two: think first about basing your meal around protein and green stuff, and then add in the carbs, you'll be fuller for longer.

3. Get off the treadmill.
And I don't just mean the figurative diet treadmill, I mean the actual treadmill. Sure, you want some cardio, aerobic endurance programs but  cardio programs (like aerobics) alone are a recipe for skinny fat (believe me, I was 52kg and 28% body fat). If you are going to use the treadmill use it with intensity for short sharp bursts. You'll be in and out of the gym more quickly and have an enormous endorphin high that will last to your next session. Tip 3: Hour long cardio based programs (like running distance on the treadmill, step or aerobics classes) have their place, but don't make them your only training.

4. Bring in the weights.
Think you're too old and saggy for a bikini? Try working intensely with weights. I was skeptical at first but weights are really what got me into shape. They also helped bring my metabolism back in order and my weight stopped fluctuating. Don't want to look like Mr Olympia? Don't worry. Women don't have the muscle building capacity of men, and also we start to lose muscle as we get older. To put it in perspective after 3 months of intense weights based training I built less than 3kg of muscle. No way was I about to challenge Arnie for Mr Olympia but I looked smokin' in a bikini... Tip 4 - weight training will bring results.

5. Have respect.
My body is amazing. it has carried me through triathlons and half marathons. It's allowed me to lift weights, but I've been really hard on it. I've punished it for not going fast enough or carrying me far enough. I haven't listened or given it enough respect. Tip five. Take some time to appreciate just how much your body has given you, and give it something back.

6. It's a mental game.
It took cross fit to make me realise how much I was capable of, and how my mind can easily turn against me. Through Cross fit I built the mental resilience that helped me to swim, run and cycle for three hours straight. It was mental toughness that got me through the Nowra Jellyfish disaster of 2013. **Your body can do almost anything, if your mind will let it. Tip 6: Work with intensity to practice mental toughness

7. Rest up.
Last triathlon season I pushed my body hard. I wanted to get better, and go faster, but all I got was slower and more tired. Then, I had two months climbing cliffs. My triathlon training took a back seat. Now, returning for the next season of training, I'm busting out run times I only could of dreamed of by the end of last season. The change in training, and the rest have achieved what all that pavement-pounding couldn't. Tip 7: take rests. Weekly rests, but look at your seasonal calendar and see if you can't get a good, seasonal break from your regular activities too.

8. You've got to have friends
I have some online friends who have been there to encourage me. I seen them grow, change, develop. Together we've seen some good times and many bad. We've learned from each other. We were brought together by a love of fitness now we're held together by unconditional support. Every triathlon I've run, I know they've been online, waiting for results. They were the ones who encouraged me to pursue a career in personal training and I know they'll be there to listen to me no matter how it goes. Tip 8: Find some like-minded friends and stick to them.

For those of you just starting on your fitness journey, I hope this has helped. For everyone else, sorry!

** I Just realised I never blogged about The Great Jellyfish Disaster of 2013. But let me just say that large, leggy, gelatinous, stingy jelly fish combined with a drastic change of tide and triathlons don't mix. I endured a 50 minute swim while others were plucked from the river around me. Stung all across my body and nauseous from the stings and swallowing two much water, I came in from the 40km bike ride a wreck and in last place. I kept going, crossed the finish line to get my worst triathlon time, and one of my proudest moments ever.

If I couldn’t fail

I saw a post on Facebook the other day that asked  ‘What would you do if you know you couldn’t fail’ and instantly I started thinking- start my own business, finish all those books I’ve been writing, run an ironman triathlon. The statement made me think about how fear of failure might be holding me back, how it holds most of us back.

But then I thought, if I knew I couldn’t fail, would I relish the victory quite so much?

 Imagine starting an ironman triathlon knowing you were going to complete it, and with a personal best. Would the victory be so sweet? Would the pain you had to go through feel worth it? You certainly wouldn’t feel as nervous before, but would you feel as proud afterwards.

I watched a friend complete a long course triathlon the other day (2km swim, 90km cycle and 20km run). He’d been training for the event for months. He hardly slept the night before the race. He began his swim at 6.30am. Just over seven hours later we watched him cross the finish line to a thunderous roar. Sure, he might have happily given up the pre-race nerves, but would the victory have been as sweet if he always knew he was going to complete it?

Believing the marketing hype

I’m a sucker to good marketing, and I don’t mean a good advertisement. I mean clever marketing that works its magic by changing a product to make it seem ‘healthy’.

In the 90’s I was fooled by anything that said ‘low-fat’. I never thought to check any other nutritional information, like calories or sugar.

I was never fooled by vitamin water (soft drink by another name) but I have been fooled by anything with the words ‘organic’ ‘goji’ or ‘acai’ in it. Like the addition of these ingredients to  salty and sugary treats makes them healthy.

More recently, I’ve been fooled by those low –carb bars.

Have you seen those ads on the back of busses, you know, the ones with the incredibly-flat- stomached-woman in the bikini who supposedly eats these bars?   Those ads must have really sunk into my head because when I’d reach for one (or two, or three –because let’s face it, they’re only a mouthful) of these during my 3pm slump, I actually thought it was good for me (“well if it helped incredibly-flat-stomached-woman …” etc)

The truth is, eat more than one and you may just as well have eaten that kit kat you really wanted to eat.  These little low-carb terrors that a friend  once described to me as a ‘chemical shit storm’ are now one of the best selling snack foods for women.

So from now on I’m committing to reading more labels and ignoring the marketing hype … or at least until the next one comes along.

The snot rocket

I've trained over the winter before. And let me tell you, it's not fun.

It's not the dark morning starts or the frozen extremities that bother me as much as the constantly running nose. Especially on the bike.

Honestly, some cold mornings it's like sucking back on a snot milkshake. I'm told that the pressure on the nose to warm the air before it goes to the lungs makes the blood vessels dialate, which means more blood to the nose, which means more mucus. Gross.

The solution is to learn the art of the snot rocket - plugging one nostril while you blow the other in any direction that is away from your body (and prefereably also other people's bodies but that is optional).
But this is a highly risky strategy and the consequences of making an error are not nice and potentially highly embarrassing, particularly in company.

Still, if it's the only option, I may ask my coach to write snot rocket training into my program ...

Down time

Life is full on. Isn't it?

How often do any of us have do-nothing time. Time to reflect, or to think. So little time do we need to meditate to get space.

I remember my 90 year old grandmother telling me that she loved getting on a plane (she regularly took the 24 hour flight between London and Sydney to visit us). She said it was because while she was in that seat there was absolutely nothing to do. She just had to sit there. She was 90 years old with no job. Her children and grand children were grown up. She owned her house and got enough from her pension to live on. Still, the only time she could find where she had absolutely nothing to do, no pressure was when she sat on a plane.  Even the bad food and appalling sleeping postures weren't  enough to spoil that time for her.

Why do we always have to do stuff (and I'm just as guilty as, if not more guilty than, anyone). Even doing nothing we have to do something. Read a book, do the crossword, eat. We all do so much that I think we've lost the skill of doing nothing.

I'd love to re-discover it, but I'm afraid I just don't have time.

Always worth it

Today my training program specified a long cycle. But we had a few things on and only had time to cycle to the house of the my LSPIL (Long Suffering Parents in Law) and back.

It's funny how the hills you so often drive up seem much smaller when taken at 70km an hour, than they do when approached on a push bike at 20km an hour* and the primary energy source is your legs.

Oh ... those hills were steep, and long, and... did I mention steep and long. The cycle on the way there was bad enough, but then my LSFIL pointed out to me over lunch that our destination was in fact some distance above us and the journey back was going to be worse. And it was.

Luckily, my friend leant me a mantra**  for such times. 'Never easy/ always worth it'.

And so I kept my pedals going. Up-down-up-down. Never-easy-always-worth-it. Until I made it to the top.

Take that hills. 

* Speed greatly exaggerated 

** Actually I may have stolen it

Excuses

It was raining, pissing down raining this morning. The kind of rain that rests over sydney like a grey woolen blanket. The kind of rain that makes the cats curl up on the sofa and stay there. The kind of rain that makes you want to stay in bed.

Which was a shame because this morning I'd set a cracker of an outdoor workout for a group I'm training from the eastern suburbs of Sydney.

I had eight signed up for the workout. Two showed up. One was my LSH (Long Suffering Husband) and the other a woman who has as her goal losing ten kilos in 12 weeks.  We had a great workout and both my participants worked with intensity.  And, while the woman has set herself a tough goal, the way she worked makes me believe she will definitely reach it. The ones who stayed in bed ... not so much.

For a start, even though she's not huge, she burned close to 500 calories in a 45 minute session (setting short, intense workouts is my thing), giving her, and her metabolism, a head start on the day. For another, there is no way she's going to undermine her goal by reaching for that cold weather comfort food when she knows how much she has already sacrificed to work out this morning. 

Across town a group of friends had organised a group cycle for this morning. Cycling in heavy rain, especially with wind squalls can be dangerous. So they were wise not to go. But did they sleep in? No, they hooked their bikes up onto wind trainers (metal frames that encase the back wheel and allow you to peddle with force while stationary) and rode, while stationary, for two hours in a garage. Another group went for an indoor power training session. 

We come up with all sorts of excuses for not putting in the effort to reach our goals, whether they be health and fitness, or life goals.  I know I have some goals outside health and fitness that, because they are so dear to me, have taken on a importance which makes them seem all too hard. It's easy to find excuses not to pursue them.

Today I was reminded by all these examples that if I really want to reach those goals, I need to drop the excuses. 

PS: I'm not saying never change your plans no matter what is going on. A sick child or family member is a tragedy that requires your attention, not an excuse. Water falling from the sky is an excuse.

Community

I grew up in a community. I knew my neighbours, and my neighbours neighbours and my ... well you get it, we all knew each other.

Every Tuesday my mother played tennis with the neighbourhood women and every Tuesday Mrs Cadger would bring out her home backed gingernut cookies and I'd go to town on them. The kids would keep ourselves amused by chasing the stray balls, or climbing on those really high umpires chairs.

Holidays were a special time in our neighbourhood. Every Queens birthday long weekend we'd have the whole neighbourhood around to our place for firecracker night and and Jenni-Marie Sprat and I would write our names with sparklers while the older boys threw bungers at each other. Every Easter Jenny-Marie Sprat and I would see who could eek out their Easter eggs the longest. Every Christmas day the whole neighbourhood would meet between sunrise and church to compare presents.

Now, it's not the same. We have no idea who our neighbours are (we call one side 'the bears' and the other 'bad garden') all we know is that if they are home, they're taking up a parking spot we could use.

But, I still have a community. In fact, I have two communities.

I am lucky enough to be part of an online group of fellow fitness fanatics and have had the pleasure of being 'with' them as they gone through good and bad times. They've supported me and I've supported them as we've taken on our challenges.

I also have my triathlon community, my club, and a smaller group from that club, who have been an unbelievable support to me. Introduced me to long rides, educated me on nutrition, and showed me what it really means to give 100%.

I think the world has changed a lot since I was a kid but I still love and need community and community is still there. It's just that they're no longer the people that live down the road.

Why I can't say I can't

When I was little I idolised my sister. She was five years older than me and I thought that everything she did was amazing. She was a champion runner, great softball player and a gymnast. She had what I thought was the perfect figure.

When she went to high school I listened eagerly to her stories about new friends with exotic names and knew I wanted to be just like her. When I finally made high school I burst with pride every time I was allowed into the Year 12 corridor because I had a sister in Year 12.**

My sister was also my greatest teacher.

When she was maybe around nine or ten she started gymnastics. And because my sister was going ... I went too. Every Wednesday afternoon we'd slide into our blue nylon leotards and I'd pretend I looked as good as her in it, and head down to the gym.  It was at an old gym in the basement of an RSL with a boxing ring and one of those body shaped steam machine that boxers would use to sweat off the weight pre-bout.

One day she came home from the gym in tears. She couldn't do a handstand. She would never do a handstand. Everyone else could do a handstand  .... except her. I watched my Dad try to reason with her while she stamped her foot and shouted 'I can't'. A couple of hours  of solid practice (and a load of patience from my Dad) *** and she could handstand with the best of them. And I do believe she can still handstand (and cartwheel) to this day.

Now, whenever I think 'I can't', I think about that handstand and know, that one day I will.

** She was dead handy for bludging 40 cents for a golden rough or buttered finger bun.

***Actually i had a similar repeat session when I was 14 and trying to sew a baby's quilt for home science. I threw the scissors across the room and shouted 'I can't'. A couple of hours and, again, a load of patience from my Dad and I had a quilt. My daughter still has that quilt.

Butterflies

I’ve learned to embrace my inner butterfly.

You know, the one with the iron, bat-like wings that flaps and flutters before any nerve-racking moment, the one that makes my heart race and my armpits leak and hands shake, the one that wakes me up every ten minutes the night before a race.

I used to hate it. I used to avoid it. I used to hide from it.

Now (even though I still find it uncomfortable to have those  giant wings batting inside me) I welcome it. 

Over the past few years I’ve watched some awesome people meet some amazing goals. All of them were plagued by butterflies. All of them ignored the incessant flutter. All of them thought the result was worth it. 

Through them I've learned that the butterfly only hangs out when I’m out of my comfort zone and pushing boundaries.

So now I know that the butterfly is a harbinger of change, I embrace it as a sign of the good things to come.

For more information on what those butterflies actually are check out http://greatist.com/happiness/stomach-butterflies/

Diet Disection

On the day that the new Australian dietary guidelines are launched, I thought it was time to discuss my diet.

A super-fit looking spin instructor once introduced himself to the class by saying:

‘My Name’s Rob* , I used to be over 100 kilos. I’ve lost 30kg. If you come to me after class I can tell you how I did it. Short story- if it comes in a packet, don’t eat it.’

Turns out Rob was a bit of a tosser. But his advice has stayed with me, so I thought I might analyse my diet by this criteria.

Pre workout snack- A date and a few almonds- nothing processed there.

 

Breakfast- Teresa Cutter Muesli (we make a big pot of it on the weekend and it lasts through the week). Not much processed food here. Oats, and dried fruit are minimally processed as are yogurt. I think I get a tick on this one.

Morning tea- As we were away all weekend I had no time to make my Teresa Cutter Protein Fudge Snacks, so I’m on Carmen’s Muesli bars. No tick on this one, as it’s processed, but at least when I check the ingredients there is nothing that wasn’t once something natural and no ingredient I can't pronounce.

Lunch- Left over frittata with sweet potato and asparagus- All fresh ingredients and made with low fat ricotta.

Afternoon tea- green beans and red capsicum with hummus- the hummus is store-bought, I should probably make my own, but honestly, who has the time.

Dinner – Zucchini spaghetti with tomato olives and ricotta. The tomato came from a tin and the ricotta came from the deli at the supermarket. Minimal processing and we bought the low salt and sugar versions of the tomato. 

Dessert – 2 squares of Lindt 70% chocolate – I eat this every night and if you think I’m going to give it up because some tosser in a spin class told me to, think again! 

*Real name changed to protect identity

Win or lose, it’s all in the way you look at it

I spent the weekend at a triathlon festival at Huskisson, sharing the weekend with member of my triathlon group, Balance-UTS. It was a weekend of mixed results.

Firstly, I saw some great friends reach their goals. They swam, cycled and ran for over seven hours and when they crossed the line I had tears in my eyes.  I was so proud of the way they’d trained and competed.

But my own results were mixed. I was disappointed, after all the training I put in, not to meet my time goal in the sprint triathlon. In retrospect, I realised that I set the goal too high, and, given the current pace at which I swim, cycle and run, the goal was a total fantasy.  Lesson learned. Set realistic and achievable goals.

I also had the pleasure of completing the 2km swim leg of the long course triathlon (which has a 2km swim with team Lost in Transition. As I’d never swum 2km in the Ocean before I had no expectations, my goal was just to finish, hopefully coming under the cut off time of 1 hour.

Well, I finished it, and in way under the one hour cut-off. I know my technique wasn’t perfect, and I was nowhere near fast, but I was just so proud of finishing. You couldn’t wipe the grin off my face.

The 2km swim was not that much greater, or any faster, than the sprint triathlon. But, while the triathlon felt like a defeat, the swim was a victory.

It was all in the way I looked at it.

Nineteen years ago today

Nineteen years ago today the most amazing thing happened to me. It's not uncommon, or extraordinary in fact it happens it happens between 250 000 and 300 000 times a day.

Nineteen years ago I gave birth to the extraordinary child we've come to know as Amelia.

It wasn't an easy birth (32 hours) but when it was all over I was so impressed that there was a living and breathing child in my arms, this perfect little girl.

I fell amazingly and extraordinarilly in love.

And I've never been the same since.

On track

I'm an athlete, and the reason I know is because, every Thursday, I run on a track. 

Track is the scariest training session of the week, and it's not the workout (although it's pretty tough), its the environment.

Track is an actual track, in a building shaped like a stadium, with a proper running surface moulding into a 400 metre loop. Track was used as the warm up track for the olympics. Track is filled with young athletes. Long legs, glutes of steal, six pack abs. You know the type. And they thunder down the track, carving it up in long, elegant strides.

Not one other person is anywhere near approaching being a 40 (and a bit) year old mother of a 19 year old child. In fact the only other people over 30 are the mothers that watch their talented children as they run, pole vault,  hurdle, or long jump around the track. 

Still, almost every Thursday I show up, and, rather bravely I think,  I run around the track a prescribed number of times while my coach times me. 

Which makes me an athlete too. 

My favourite workout- I lied

So I didn't intentionally lie about my favourite workout, that one is definitely my favourite on my own workout.

By my favourite workout of the week is my weekly workout with my husband (minds out of the gutter people!).

Once a week we cycle to Centennial Park to do interval training. This morning it was 10 lots of  two minutes fast pace, two minutes slow.

On the way to the park we get to chat about stuff and take in the scenery. The workout itself is pretty hard, then the ride home (our cool down) is nice chatting again.

If I was to do this on my own, I'd soon get pretty bored with it, but when my husband's with me, it's always fun, and challenging.

Bags of stuff

My mother worked full time, raised three kids, cooked for a family of five, managed our finances, and cleaned a four bedroom house. She also sang in the choir,  was a graded softball umpire and softball coach, went to church every Sunday, was on the P and C and was also intimately involved in whatever sporting association us kids decided was the flavour of the day.

My mother, and I may have mentioned this before, was very organised.

One of the secrets to her organisational success was her 'bag system'. Mum had (and still has) a bag ready-packed for every activity. Choir, softball, swimming, work. Each bag had exactly what she needed for that activity and nothing else. So, when it came time for her to tear me from her ankles, and go, say, to choir practice, she would just pick up her bag and know it had everything she needed.

Fast forward forty-odd years and I find myself doing the same thing. I have a cycling bag, a swimming bag, a gym bag and a climbing bag. I never have to check or re-check I have anything because all I do is pick up the relevant bag for the relevant training session.

You've got to love a great role model.

The fab Feb shopping trolley

Have you ever seen one if those TV shows where they show the 'before' diet of some unfortunate over eater -a week's food laid out on the table and all of it brown or beige.

Then they renovate the diet and show a weeks worth of colourful fruit and vegetables.

Well the contrast might not be as extreme but I love the look of my fit and fab Feb trolley. Half filled with fruit and verges it looks super colourful.

The mouse that roared

I am a member of a very special group. We all met online during Michelle Bridges Lean and Strong  12WBT programs over a year ago now. We 'talk' every day. Mostly about health and fitness but also about general life stuff. We've seen each other achieve so much, the highs -  marathons, body building contests, personal bests in cross fit and even a couple of triathlons, and the lows - life threatening illnesses, operations, redundancies, unrequited love and marriage break ups.

When I did the Noosa triathlon last year, they were all online watching and commenting as I completed each leg.

So it is no wonder that we were all online following Karen Dunick's progress last night as she walked on stage and picked up the trophy for winning this round of the Lean and Strong program.

Karen must have always been a member of our online group, but she was a quiet member. Maybe she felt she didn't have much to contribute, or maybe she was intimidated. And then one day she posted. She had a new goal. She was going back to do Lean and Strong. And she was going to win.

As Karen got stronger, physically, she began to post more. And also, to start to give advice on other people's posts. Karen achieved much that round, but she didn't win. It didn't phase her.

She came back, she was going to do another round, and she was going to win.  As the round went on she got stronger and stronger. It was obvious to us that it wasn't only Karen's body that was transforming, it was her mind. Her focus was incredible. She worked out  and ate clean. When she had a girls week away, she took her own food.

To win Lean and Strong had once been a dream of many of us in the group. To watch Karen grow and transform was the greatest of pleasures. To watch her win, made the rest of us feel as if we'd won too.

My favourite workout

My favourite workout takes between 20 minutes and half an hour. In that time I can burn around 300 calories (a bigger person would do more), and be left lying on the floor unable to move. Like any good workout it's best done with a partner, but you can smash it out on your own too. It's short duration, but high intensity and perfect for when you don't have much time. You can do it with minimal equipment, body weight or a set of hand weights.

This is it.

1. Warm up
2. 20 box jumps, 20 squat thrusts, 20 bicep curls, 20 Lunges
3. Run 500 metres (treadmill or oval- your choice)

Repeat 4 times .... preferably without a break or with minimal breaks

The trick is, each 500 m has to be faster than the last.

And if you've still got more in you ... finish it off with a 1km time trial on the rower.

Oh, and remember to have a good stretch at the end. We're all so busy, it's difficult to find one hour to work out, but 30 minutes can be slipped in during your lunch break.

The smell of a good book

It's official. I'm a turn coat, a traitor, and insipid betrayer of my species. I'm not even sure how I can look myself in the mirror.

I've given up books.

I haven't given up reading or writing books, just buying them. After years of swearing I wouldn't convert, I'm reading books electronically and I have to say, I like it.

I like carrying my library with me wherever I go. I like going on holidays and carry  two weeks supply of books in my handbag, I like taking my favourite recipe books shopping, and I like living  in a house the size of a couple of postage stamps and still have space to walk down the corridor because it's not lined with bookshelves.**

But the other day I was reminded just how much I'm giving up.  I was walking past the Fisher Library, a collection of over 5 million books (and 300 000 e-books) on the University of Sydney campus, and as I walked past, the glass doors slid open and the whole library seemed to exhale that better than baked bread smell of old books. I love that smell. And it makes me sad that there are kids born today who might never know it.

Still, I've hardened my heart and I'm not going back.


** This is a lie, we have our bikes stacked on a two-story bike rack in the corridor, and so have to sidle down the corridor anyway.

Crazy for Kale

My husband and I bought Kale the other day. It was on special. We had no idea what it was or what to do with it, but it was large, cheap, green and kind of crazy looking and so we bought it.

Turns out Kale is a superfood.

Now, having been caught up in the Goji Berry, Acai super food (read super-marketing) fads of 2011/12, I'm a little wary of the claim to the title 'super food'. But in this case it seems like this food may actually be faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive.  In fact, one cup of cooked Kale contains:

• 2.5 grams of protein
• 354 percent of your recommended daily allowance of vitamin A (beta-carotene)
• 89 percent of your recommended daily allowance for vitamin C (move over orange juice!)
• 1328 percent of your recommended daily allowance for vitamin K
• 27 percent of your recommended daily allowance for manganese

It's also  loaded with phytonutrients that protect against many kinds of cancer including breast and ovarian.

But best of all ... you can turn it into a that illusive of all foods ... the healthy chip.

Now, outa my way, I need to cook ...

People are amazing

People are amazing. You me, them, everybody - we all have an enormous capacity to grow and change and learn and his capacity is much greater than we think. I’ve always believed this but now I know, and this is how.

My husband and I like to do the cryptic crossword at night.  The love of the crossword is something I inherited from my fiercely intelligent mother and foisted onto my husband. We usually do pretty well too, finishing the crossword most nights.

But there is one crossword compiler who is just so fiendish that he leaves us with the majority of the puzzle blank. DA (as he is known in the crossword world) is known for setting clues so cryptic, they are clues within clues, within clues. Never have I been able to solve more than four clues of a DA crossword which appears every Friday in the Sydney Morning Herald. In fact, lately I’ve just stopped trying. I have better things to do on a Friday night anyway. Right?

Monday’s crossword, however is the opposite. Maybe the Sydney Morning Herald has taken pity on us poor workers, but the Monday crossword tends to be a bit easier to solve than others. Until last Monday when my husband and I solved just over half of the clues, but were struggling to get anymore. I went to sleep worrying that our crossword capacity was much diminished and it was with much interest that I checked Tuesday’s paper for the solution.

Except, the solution on Tuesday didn’t match the puzzle on Monday. At first I thought the SMH had made a mistake until I checked the date and on Monday we had accidentally picked up Friday’s untouched crossword.

Without knowing it we had actually completed more than 50% of a DA puzzle. Instead of being a disappointment it was a great triumph.

I believe  we only managed because we didn’t realise it was DA and approached as we would any other puzzle. We didn’t let our brains, our fears and our preconceptions get in the way.

There are two lessons to be learned from this.

1.       What can seem to be a disappointment can actually be a great triumph, depending on the way you look at it

2.       Our fears and preconceptions hold us back unnecessarily and all too often we let them get in the way of our successes

Darkest before dawn

On Sunday afternoon I was ready to give it all up.

I'd just seen my time for my latest triathlon and, after months and months of training, it was slower than it was a year ago.**

It's enough to bring a girl to tears, and, in fact, it did. But after soaking through my husband's shirt, I decided I'd give it another go.

And then today, a breakthrough.

Anyone who has tried it will know that running after you've been cycling is not fun. Your legs are smashed, and, used to cycling, not running, seem weak and kind of floppy underneath you - kind of like the puppeteer is pulling the wrong strings.

To help train in the transition from bike to run triathletes have 'brick sessions' whch bring two of the disciuiplines (usually cycle-run) together into one session.

My  tunning pace during brick sessions, is normally pretty slow, just  over 7 minutes per kilometer. 

This morning I ran just over two kilometers off the bike. The first was at 6.11 per KM. The second was at 5.55 per KM.

Like I said a break though, and just in time too.



** There are lots of reasons for this, one is that I've been training for endurance for a longer distance triathlon, not for speed in a short distance triathlon. Also, later that afternoon I found out my tire had a slow leak, which would have impacted on my bike time and also how much energy I had for the run. But then again, maybe it was just 'one of those days.

Scales and Justice

This is the thing about scales.

They are a measure of how much mass you have at one particular moment of time. That is all.

And I mean total mass. The water you’ve drunk, or retained, your fat, your muscle, your blood, your bones, your clothes and shoes if you are wearing them.

As a measure of mass they can be useful for providing cheap and easy feedback on your weight loss, particularly if you’re someone with a lot to lose. However, the scales should never be your sole measurements.  Most don’t measure the percentage of fat or muscle in your body. They can’t measure your fitness, or your health, or come anywhere near defining your worth as a person.

This is why, when I'm setting health and fitness goals, I no longer just rely on weight as a measure. Now I'm in fit and February mode, I'll be weighing myself weekly but I'm also bringing out the tape measure and measuring your waist and hips and find an item of a dress that’s feeling a bit tight that hopefully will feel looser by the end of the month. I've also learned to ensure that my goals include some measure of strength or cardio fitness.

I’ve been a slave to the scales before.  On a ‘good’ weigh in day I’d feel on top of the world, but it would only take a 200 or 300gm change for me to feel low again. I let a single, somewhat unreliable, number define me. And I’m never doing it again.

The champion

I have a secret. I haven't told anyone else. Ever!

Each time I line up to start a triathlon I beg for a flat tire along the way.

You see, while I love training for triathlon, and love (and adore) the feeling when I finish. I hate the moment before the start, when all there is in front of you, is a long swim, cycle and run. And, at that time, I'm looking for any excuse that will get me out of it and I thought a flat tire might be it.

But this morning I witnessed something quite extraordinary.

There is a woman at my triathlon club that I very much admire. She is an awesome athlete and more often than not I see her collecting her age group medal for her efforts. She also puts time into training new members. And, if that's not enough, she's really nice too.

Today, after starting in a wave ten minutes or so after mine she zoomed past me on the bike. Sadly, I then zoomed past her, as she stood on the side of the road by her inverted bike changing a tire.

"Oh no!!" I yelled to her, expecting I wouldn't see her again in the race. Thirty minutes later she was passing me on the run leg. And what do you know, she ran on to get a medal.

So, I no longer have my excuse. If you get a flat, you fix it and keep going. But I do have an awesome new role model of courage and determination.

The green thumb

Earlier this year the lovely Alistair and I downsized so we could move back to the Inner West. One of the consequences is that our house is smaller than some of those American trailers you see on TV and our garden is even smaller.

But despite it's size, our garden is blooming. The Gardenia's are bright green and pregnant with new growth, the star jasmine is spiraling up the front of the house and the frangipani, put in only months ago, looks like it's been in for years.

As I walked past our tiny patch on the way to train this morning I thought to myself. 'That husband of mine has such a green thumb.'

The mind -numbing hour I spent on the exercise bike (thank you, rain, for spoiling my Saturday ride) gave me time to think. 'Green thumb' intimates some special, innate ability, a talent, a quality that somehow makes it easier for him to grow a garden than the rest of us.

The truth is he works hard on that tiny patch of greenery. He is always out digging and watering and generally tending it. In fact when I got into the house he was reading up on pruning gardenias.

So, what does this have to do with fitness? Well ... it's pretty easy to cop out of things by thinking that you're 'just not that type of person' or even 'it's easier for  XXX (insert name here) they are good at that kind of thing'.

The truth is that we never see all that is behind people's achievements.

I'm no 'green thumb' but I'm sure I could make a garden grow if I put the effort into it. Labels like 'green thumb' and 'natural athlete' and 'naturally slim' are veils that hide the slog that goes into achieving goals, and they make people think they are somehow not capable, when, with effort, they are. And all too often they are used as reasons not to try.

Welcome to February

It's February again, and time for a new Fit and Fabulous February.

For those of you who can't remember, or don't care, or don't care to remember, it was Fit and Fabulous February, before Michelle Bridges, before crossfit, before half-marathons and before triathlon that started my fitness journey.

Once a year my husband and I would take stock of our fitness and overall health, set new goals and officially start our 'new year'. It's no coincidence that the first Fit and Fab Feb followed my only ever 'year of eating dangerously'**. Early on the focus was weight loss, but gradually transitioned to focus on fitness.  Now,  a whole bunch of people are joining us to Fit and Fabulous Feb and I'm sure that one year the whole thing will take off.

What are the rules of FFF? The only rule is that you need to set a goal and check in with the FFF crew as the month goes by.  My husband and I like to give up alcohol, but that's a personal choice.

I also need to catch many of you up on what I've done since blogging about the somewhat disappointing fitchick challenge last April. It's been an exciting time. Firstly I had my first serious back injury. Then I recovered from the injury (if a Physio gives you exercises do them!!) in time to train for my first Olympic distance triathlon in Noosa while at the same time getting my personal training qualification. I'm not certain the direction I'm going with it yet, but it's great to know I've got it behind me.  And I've done it all with the support of my family, and a great bunch of online and offline friends and supporters.

So, welcome to FFF 2013, I hope you find this blog interesting and sometimes inspiring. i love writing it as it brings together my two passions (writing and fitness). Thanks to everyone who has been part of making me fitter and more fabulous.

** Not a good idea ...