The eagle eyed physiotherapist noticed it straight away “You’ve got another one”.
“Yeah but its second hand. I got it from trade me. It was cheap. It doesn’t really count”.
You know you have a problem with fitness gadgets when you’re having to justify their purchase to your health professional. I seem to remember a similar conversation with him when I bought the Garmin Vivoactive too. Although that time, I also remember trying to cover it up with my sleeve. I had relapsed. I had only declared to my personal trainer two weeks before that I wasn’t going to get one as I was happy pairing the Garmin Vivofit with a chest strap to get all the data I needed.
And here I am again, this time with a Jawbone Up 3 ( My second Jawbone) on my wrist.
“I got it for my sleep”desperately clutching at straws.
He looks a bit confused and says something akin to…”just go to bed”. Continue reading “Fast track to nowhere”
There’s this saying that when one door closes, another one opens. The flaw in this is that it assumes that you are in a room with more than one door. Sometimes when one door closes you are stuffed.
Stuck in a room with only yourself for all eternity, eating your own toenails and drinking your own pee. If you are in a room with two doors, there is no guarantee that the other one will open, Unless the first door slammed an this created some kind of draught, of air pressure change that then caused the other door to open because it wasn’t properly closed to start with. Truly though, what generally happens when one door closes, is that we open it again. Which is how most of us avoid getting stuck in toilets for ever and having our faces chewed off by rats. Continue reading “When one door closes”
There are many things that I purposefully avoid because they make me feel bad about myself.
Ten pin bowling, gymnastics, old school bullies. I have a relatively robust self-esteem, but there are some no go areas to which I do not venture because it’s a bit stabby. So I was surprised to find myself volunteering to have a body scan. It had been suggested before but I had refused. Mainly because I tend to have a golden rule about my discretionary spending that it has to make me happy, or at least fix one of my many aches and pains. This was not going to fit that criteria. Why would I pay money to feel miserable unless there was gin involved?
Continue reading “Finding out what I’m made of”
Thinking about my recent posts, both here and elsewhere, I wondered if I was turning into a one-trick-pony. There’s a running theme of deciding to do something and then having to run the gauntlet of my catastrophic thinking, before doing the thing and actually liking it a little. This is not every experience. Often my monkey mind is quite in control of itself.
Continue reading “A Kettlebell love affair”
A handstand workshop is the perfect vehicle for me to experience mediocrity.
I have never had any skill in this department. There was mastery of the cartwheel, forward roll and sausage roll. There were competent splits and passable walkovers alongside enthusiastic Arab springs, but as a kid being upside down remained elusive to me. There was the occasional attempt at a handstand walk just to show willing, legs would flail dangerously, people in close proximity would flee, sensibly.
Once those primary school days were over, handstand practice, alongside being topless in public, was left behind.
Continue reading “Handstands and the dark places”