Queen Leda

Thursday, lovely Thursday…only one more day and the weekend is here. Somehow I’ve almost made it through the first week of work and exercise in one piece, although I admit to being a trifle sore in the legs and a little weary of heart. This is mainly due to two hard workouts on two consecutive days – more of that in a minute – but it’s also about old mental habits dying hard. I reckon it’s probably a lot easier to fix the body than the mind.
It’s amazing how easily your mood can flip from positivity to negativity, or at least when you don’t feel as strong as you want to be. Or maybe it’s just me! I have a lot of things to feel good about just now, yet I can let one thing I’m not so happy about dominate my thinking and mood. Build up the walls and tear them down again. I don’t think it’s just me; I suspect a lot of us are guilty of this. But the more you build, the harder it becomes to knock it all down. This was more of a minor crack in the rendering. Ooh, I’m all philosophical and metaphorical today!
Before you run away screaming, don’t worry, I’m not going to bare my soul here, but I’ll just say this: here’s an idea. Make a list of all the good things about your life or your journey or whatever and then compare it to the bad thing/s. Betcha that nine times out of ten, the good list is a feck of a lot longer. My list today had ten, that’s TEN good things and one bad. For crying out loud! Give yourself a slap in the mental chops and move on woman. And remember to treat yourself with the compassion you deserve. And that means you too, if you are as likely to focus on perceived failures as I am.
Whew! That’s enough of that. Onto the workouts. I have continued my morning sessions with Kevin the kettlebell and the plank. Except yesterday. Wednesday is my day off so I get up early and go the gym for the 7.30am class. Yesterday it involved some horrible stretching, push ups, cleans (a type of lift which I seemed to find impossible to do properly) and other nasties. My legs were still sore today – not painful but tight, which gave me some ministry of silly walks type manoeuvres at work. No doubt I looked like an inspirational queen of fitness to my colleagues.

NB I don’t actually wear a bowler hat to work…

The score board from the daily class is posted on Facebook each night, so you can see how well (or how shit) you are in comparison to the others who have completed that day. It’s not a competition, except against yourself. I got the fear again, seeing how good some of the other Spartan team members are. Yoiks. If that wasn’t masochistic enough, I was back in today for a personal training session – there was a special offer before Christmas and I thought it would help after all my injuries at the end of last year.
If you haven’t had personal training, I recommend it. On the upside, you can’t be embarrassed by comparing yourself to people who are already kings and queens of Sparta, and only the coach can hear you scream. On the downside, there is nowhere to hide, and you can’t accidentally over count your reps (not that I would EVER do that). Driving over, I was, frankly, dreading it. The good thing about it, especially if you are thinking about starting with kettlebells or lifts, is that you get the correct form. Thankfully Coach D didn’t push me too hard today. Well not over the top anyway; I can’t deny it was pretty tough and my legs are even more stupid looking than they were this morning but I got some happy vibes.
Two main reminders: firstly the Spartan race is not a competition. It probably is for some, but for me, it’s about getting to the finish, still strong, even if I am covered from head to toe in muck. And secondly, he told me that I am a role model for my son. I read an article this week in Psychologies magazine about the things that people say that sometimes are powerful enough to stick with you. That was one of them for me. We were talking about the new class that started for kids on Sunday – we took the wee lad to it and he loved it. My son often likes to ask what exercises I do at the gym when I come home, and provided they are not too hairy, I show him and get him doing them. I swear that boy can do a perfect, chest to floor burpee, and he demonstrated it on Sunday, which made me very proud. This might sound a bit sad, but believe me, I am not some kind of fitness Tiger Mother freak.
Kids are generally pretty active, but often that dies down as they turn into revolting teens. If I can instil some love of exercise in him (and by that I mean acknowledging that sometimes you fucking hate it, but you do it anyway, in the same way that you eat green vegetables) then I will be happy. That comment gave me a wee lump in my throat. Not that I would ever admit it because I am a hardcore, Spartan warrior queen. Alright, I am a big Jessie but I keep on trying. I saw this quotation on the Spartan daily email the other day that resonated:
‘A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.’
Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
Funnily enough, after all that, somehow I feel much better today, more than I have all week – apart from the legs, did I mention the legs? A bath beckons.  The joy of disrobing after a tough day! I have been eating a lot of seeds this week and often they fall out of my bra at the end of the day. If I am not careful, this is going to happen:

Until next time,

QL