No more shit...

Life really does delight in biting you in the bum sometimes. So be careful. Don’t tempt fate. J

You know how the other day I was saying that you really should never ever ever share a bathroom when you’re detoxing?  Well.  I was due to head off to check out another detox in a few days’ time – this time not so far from home, in Somerset even. And it looked great.  A week of juice fasting – you know, just my game. Lots of yoga and Pilates and meditation. Yum.  Conveniently forgetting the twice-daily colonics bit.

And then, I get back and the PR gives me a call. It's kinda hard to concentrate cos Asbo is barking in my ear and wafting foul breath over me so I'm twisting in some kind of yogic contortion to get away from his sphere of influence.

But eventually I made out this:

‘Umm, we’ve been having feedback from journalists about this and, I should warn you…’ 

Er, yes? 

‘Well, you’ll have your own room of course…;

Er, yes?  Oh what?  WHAT? No! You know what’s coming, right?

‘But, see, you’ll be sharing a cottage.’

‘So, cutting to the chase, I’ll be sharing a bathroom with a stranger?’

‘Er, yes, basically.’

‘And this is the place where you’re supposed to do colonics on yourself twice a day, right?’ 

See, I can’t get away from the shit.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that; you’ll have your own board.’ 

Er, right. Just like I had my own rectal nozzle. Life is generous.

‘You’ll make a schedule. It’ll be fine.’

Well, I fear, to my shame, that I had a bit of a prima donna moment.  I mean, it’s one thing sharing a bathroom if you’re going to a budget b&b or camping or wotnot. But at a place that charges around a grand for a week?  Er, I don’t think so.  And, when you’re supposed to be toddling off every morning and afternoon to crap?  Great.

So I came off the phone and fired off an email to the organizers saying basically WTF?  And, hey ho, they got back to me and said… ‘Well, we were hoping to upgrade you but, as it happens, it’s all off now anyhow as the owners of the property have decided they don’t want any more journalists coming.’

So, that’s that. No more shit.  And at first I thought, there you go Jane – all your own fault for being such a fecking spoilt bitch.  For putting on airs and acting the big I Am.  Cos really, I never do that assertion stuff.  Ever.  Usually I’m just bloody grateful for whatever I get given.

But then again, who knows, maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe it’s for the best. The idea of twice-daily colonics was doing my, er, head in.  But I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.  Cos, no matter how much you tell yourself you can do the juicing at home, and the yoga and Pilates and meditation too, no problem – when it comes to it, you don’t, do you?  Not properly.  The dog barks, the phone rings, you have to work and clean the house and wash the clothes and so on, and then you fart around on the Internet and before you know it, your child’s home from school and priorities shift all over.  Then again, maybe that’s the challenge, huh?  

Move it, shake it (more weight loss shenanigans)

www.wisewellwoman.com

There is a whole host more to talk about with regard to food/not food, drink/not drink but let’s leave that to one side for the moment.  There was also another big factor or six that kicked my issues with food right into touch but I don’t want to scare you off too soon.  So let’s stick to the tangible stuff for now.  Baby steps, eh?

Next step (ho ho)...  Exercise.

Truly our bodies are built to move. We weren’t designed to sit at desks all day; to slump on sofas. If you want to be fit and healthy, to be strong and slim, you don’t just need to look at what you put into your body but also how you use it; at calories out as well as calories in. 

*sigh* Maybe in my next life, eh?  :)

I’ve had a love-hate relationship with exercise all my life.  When I was at school I used to dread Wednesdays with every ounce of my eleven-year old being. Wednesday meant gym and gym meant ritual humiliation in front of thirty-odd classmates. Try as I might, I couldn’t do a handstand, let alone a cartwheel (though, weird thing, I can do them perfectly in my head).  The vault could have been a skyscraper. None of it helped, of course, by having to wear thick navy cotton knickers (oh guys, come on! How could you do that to teenage girls??) 

So, despite being a pretty good squash player and quite nifty on the netball court; despite cycling up killer hills and doing extreme outdoor challenges in the mountains, I dubbed myself a failure at sport. I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one and that many of us cite school sport fear and loathing as part of the reason why we don't do any exercise at all.

BIG MISTAKE.

Seriously.  I said I wasn’t going to lecture and that I wasn’t going to tell you what to do but honestly, if you want to look and feel great, you simply gotta get moving. One way or another. I don’t care what you do – just do something!  C’mon, you don’t need me to tell you why. Exercise keeps our hearts and lungs working as they should and helps prevent cardio-vascular disease. Stress levels plummet after a good hard workout or game of sport (stress hormone levels are allowed to return to their resting levels and feelgood hormones are boosted).  Regular exercise helps control blood pressure; boosts our immune system; keeps a whole pile of diseases at arms’ length; soothes our sleep patterns and boosts our sex lives. Weight-bearing exercise can help stave off osteoporosis and so on and so forth.

And yes, if you’re using up calories with exercise it’s far easier to lose weight. 

If you Google my husband's name, this comes up!

Honestly, there really aren’t many good reasons or excuses for not exercising. A few health conditions make it difficult (and in some cases impossible) but generally a good fitness instructor can tailor a routine for pretty much anyone.  Some systems – like chi gung for example – can even be adapted for people who can’t get out of a chair. Can’t afford the gym or fitness classes? Walking, running, dancing, swimming in the wild, playing games with your children are all free. 

But anyhow, it’s up to you. All I can say is that it works for me. What I did in this past crazy year was to try out a whole bunch of stuff, to find out, for the first time, what I really enjoyed doing.  First stop was the gym.  We have a (tiny) gym here in Dulverton, literally two minutes from the house, yet I’d never been.  Why?  I dunno.  So I started getting my cardio fitness back on the bike, on the cross-trainer, the rower, the treadmill.  Got back to lifting weights.  It was tough at first but I took it slow, had a programme I followed, and gradually it got easier.  I'm lucky in that my mate Trisha works there and she loves nothing more than challenging us to do new stuff - like the form of extreme masochism that goes under the name of TRX and the frothy joy of super sets. Can I promise you something?  Gyms aren't scary. Really - not the good ones. And, as Frankie points out, you won't go bulky by using weights - it's a fallacy.

No! It won't! www.stumptuous.com - check it out

But I also love working out with other people, to music, so I added in some classes.  After a bit of trial and error (nope, I will never be a belly dancer and nope I still hate jazz so jazzercise is not an option; circuits are okay; Pilates so-so) I found the mix that worked for me. 

TRX - this is EVIL! But fun... :)

So now I do Zumba twice a week because it is, quite simply, the best fun ever. It’s a great all-body workout, sexy as hell, and it’s the one and only thing that has ever really sorted out for good and proper the back pain I used to get from spending most of  my day hunched over a desk.  Then I do Kettlercise twice a week too – usually outdoors by the river – because slinging a kettlebell is also great fun as well as a stunning workout and we have one helluva laugh.  Then, of course, I walk the SP and Exmoor isn’t exactly known for being flat so that’s a workout in itself.

Yes, I do a lot of exercise.  At least an hour a day; more if I can.  I’ll use any chance I can to get my body moving. On the rare occasions I cook or do housework, I shove on some dance music and fling myself around. On the rare occasions I watch TV I usually sit on the fitball and do a few weights while I’m there.  Or I get down on the carpet and plonk myself into Plank in front of the fire. J

Why? Because I enjoy it and I love how it makes me feel. I can get high as a kite on endorphins when I exercise. Crazy high. Better than any drink or drugs. Honesty also compels me to say I love how it makes me look.  Cutting calories in food will make you lose weight; it may make you slim. But exercise will make you toned.  And, by heck, do I love toned.  As I’ve said before, I don’t want a skinny body; I want a seriously strong, sensual body.  Working out has given me seriously toned muscles.  Go on, have a prod - my thighs are rock-hard!  Okay, so I’m not totally there yet – the washboard stomach is still more in my head than in my abs.  But one day…

What does my quasi-guru do? He's far more of a back to basics guy: he runs, swims and plays extreme Mario Kart with his son. Plus yoga (which is worth a whole post all to itself, so that is what it will get). Plus something else which we’ll talk about in more detail in a day or so... J 


btw, do read the comments - Frankie has added a lot of really useful links that you may like to follow...  Thanks, Frankie. xx

Like, like, like...nice, nice, nice

I’m sick of being sick of things.  It’s too darn exhausting.  I’ve tried the ranting malarkey and it felt quite cathartic at the time (I can see how people get off on all the fist-waving) but enough is enough. I’m done (for now, anyhow).  So I thought I’d try liking things instead.  

I went back through my blogs looking for nice posts to shove onto Twitter to show my good intent.  Quickly ran out.  Then I sat and wondered.  What do I like?  What do I really like?  Actually, quite a lot of things - y'know, raindrops, kittens, brown paper packages tied up with string...that kinda malarkey....    

But then my eye fell (ouch!) on this little wheel thing, the thing that looks like a Frisbee on steroids, that arrived in the post the other day. The Powerspin, which is apparently ‘a revolutionary new fitness product set to banish ‘bingo wings’.  Allegedly it’s ‘the easy way to fabulous arms’.  

Aha, now that’s something I like.  A lot.  Arms. Fabulous arms. Fabulous? Nah, they don’t even have to be fabulous. Nice arms. When I say nice, I mean firm, long, lean muscles – not the pumped-up horror-shows you sometimes see down the gym.  

Nice.

Not nice.

I am even rather fond of my own pair cos, though I say so myself, they are rather nice: long and lean (if a bit pale and freckly and scarred), and (*has a quick shake*) nope, not even the slightest tremor of a bingo wing.

Anyhow. This Powerspin thing.  You hold it up and gently rotate your arms so the ball ‘runs smoothly around the tube'.  As the ball ‘gains momentum’, you can make the workout harder by increasing the spin.  Hold it by your hip and it tones your forearms. Hold it up at your shoulder and it works the shoulder and triceps (bingo territory). Hold it vertically in front of you and you’re into the biceps. Turn it over and spin it at navel level and it works the core. Stick it up over your head and supposedly you would tremble your triceps again though, try as we might, we couldn't get the ball rolling up there. 
According to the press release it will firm up your arms and abs in just six minutes a day. Hmm. That's one long lean claim. 

Does it work? James and I have been at it since we came back from Wales and yes, if you keep at it long enough, you feel the burn. It certainly isolates the right muscles. I am not entirely convinced by the six minutes a day but, to be fair, I haven't tried it out over a long period of time and I didn't have the bingos to start with.  But what's really clever is that the device is kinda fun.  It doesn’t take a lot of room; it doesn’t require any kind of set-up; mercy me, it doesn’t demand batteries (unbelievable, huh?).  We just leave it lying around and, ten to one, one of us will pick it up and muck around with it for a bit. Yup, Adrian even had a go (muttering darkly all the time that it was a big con).

Actually it's not. Not really. However. Big proviso. Like any of these things, it’s only going to work if you put in the effort.

Is it the only way to get nice arms? Nope. Of course not. You can achieve the same results with free weights or by slinging a kettlebell around. In fact, you don’t even need to use any equipment at all – just rely on your own bodyweight.  Triceps dips will do it though they are boring as hell.  Planking will also do the job nicely, and you’ll get the added extra of rock-hard abs.  Not the low plank so much but upright plank seguing into sideways plank; nice bit of reverse planking.  Pilates will give you great arms (and great abs). Yoga will do the same - but these take time and a heck of a lot of commitment.  And we all want an easy fix, right?  But, to be honest, there is no such thing.  As any fitness instructor will tell you, you can't really spot-reduce. If you have big arms, you'll have to lose weight (pretty much all over) before it will drop off your arms.  But a gizmo like this can't do any harm and it will help to build up some muscle.  And that's nice eh?

reverse plank - in case you wondered.

Powerspin is so new that I can’t show you a pukka official video. We did make our own at home which was very funny indeed but it's refusing to load up (which isn't very nice of it).  But then again you would have had to turn your head to the side to see it (or view while doing a sideways plank) so maybe it's just as well.  Powerspin should be in the shops soon – check out the website for updates.  I might be able to nab a few samples to give away - so let me know if you'd be interested and I'll see what I can do. Cos I'm nice, y'know. 

PS - the fabulous (way beyond nice) Frankie has pointed out that the Powerspin has been seen in an earlier incarnation.  Thanks for alerting me to this clip... :)  Actually this put me into a reverie because the ginger cat looks very much like my old darling, Foot.