Losing Grip

And so she held her breath once again,
Hoping that the wave of emotion seemingly taking over her body subsided.
She opened her eyes to see flicker of day light;
It felt like she was drowning.

The world around her dipping and swaying,
Pressure pushing hard against her chest, her head swimming in a drunken haze.
She hoped that she'd escaped feeling this again,
That she had control and yet her she was, feeling weightless, helpless.

She kicked her feet hard, praying that it would push her closer to the surface.
Running out of energy to fight;
Her mind began to slip.

Her lungs burned as they fought against a lack of air.
Her senses dulled to nothing;
Slowing but surely losing grip.

Growth Of Self: Workout/Life Balance

I have a sweet tooth. 

I like 2 sugars in my morning coffee. I'm a big fan of Cadbury's chocolate, which I am craving a lot at the moment. I'll chow down on any kind of crumble, or work my way through half a packet of ginger nut biscuits. 

I have daily battles with my cravings for these BAD things. Sometimes I win, and sometimes… lose is too kind a word for what actually happens. 

Things is, I KNOW that sugar, and carbs but that's another blog for another time, is the reason I cannot shift my muffin top! But cutting it out completely would make me a miserable arse. 

So what can I do? 

I turned to my friend, who over the last couple of years has became a fountain of workout and nutrition knowledge. We had a deep conversation about 'realistic' programmes geared toward weight loss or body fat reduction. 

She told me about an article she'd read on a simple "30 minute a day HIIT routine", which over the course of a few weeks (plus watching what you stuff your face with, of course) could see you meet your goals but also that it's SO easy, it's proven to be less of a quick win and more of a sustainable long-term workout regime. 

Now, I have a problem with this already. 

Of course I generally have 30 minutes to dedicate to some form of exercise BUT if that exercise requires me to be in specific workout gear or using particular apparatus, then 30 minutes EVERY DAY becomes less realistic to me. 

I've got friends/family to visit, weekend courses to attend, additional study and research to undertake, dinner/drinks to be had, gigs to go to, washing, cleaning and cooking to do, as well as my 9 - 6 day job. 

I'm lazy as it is, we've established this blogs and blogs ago, and 30 minutes is nothing really in the scheme of things but doing High Intensity Interval Training EVERY DAY? I don't think so. I don't want it that much. 

And that's really the question isn't it? How much DO you want it?!

I'm all about the quick wins but in this instance I'm going to slug it out and see if 3 decent cardio workouts, one that focuses on stretching and strength, more walking (now the sun's out) and good eating does the trick. 

Let's set the deadline for June 6th. 

Growth Of Self: The Release

Last night I cried.

I cried tears that came from no where

That had no where to go

I cried for loneliness

I cried for happiness

For hope and for loss 

I let them roll down my face

Onto my pillow

I gave into my weakness 

Which fuelled their power

I cried for me, for him & for her

I cried until I had nothing else

Then a peace descended on me

And I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber 

Thirty-Two And A Spinster - Part Six

So I signed up for a 10K run with some friends, as I wrote in Thirty-Two And A Spinster - Part Three, with an aim to complete in under an hour. 

I'd been training with #LazyGirlRunning since the beginning of January. I signed up because I needed something to motivate me to go running on a regular basis and it was nice to run with other people, even though I'm a complete social retard and tend to stick to myself. 

Over the weeks I noticed that I had more power, I was faster and my level of endurance was higher. So in the end, I smashed the time I was aiming for and completed in under 50 minutes! 

So proud. 

My calves were tight as hell and my left ankle, which has been acting up recently, behaved itself and saw me through. I'm taking a little break to recover but I'm already on the look out for another 10K that I can sign up to.  

On the day we all met up at the registration desk, dropped in our bags and picked up our t-shirts. There was a nice mix of girls and guys and friendly acknowledgement of the times we all wanted to aim for. 

By the first corner, we'd pretty much split up. The boys dashed off, the girls hung back, and I set off at my own pace watching my breathing and trying not to twist my ankles on the verges. 

They - whoever 'they' are - were right when they said running is a mental exercise. I really struggled around 8K; I felt absolutely exhausted and all I could think of was that a half marathon was over twice the distance I was running! Urgh. 

Still, I was stoked with my race time. A few of the guys had finished ahead of me so it was great to have them cheering me on at the finish line, and welcomed the pulled pork sandwich and beer I ordered in a local pub afterwards with great appreciation. 

#LazyGirlRunning starts up again in 2 weeks. I'm looking forward to pushing myself a little harder for better results :)      

Keep on running peeps! 

Thirty-two And A Spinster - Part Two

#LazyGirlRunning

Me to a T.

So at the beginning of the year, when I made a promise to myself that this was the year that I'd run a half marathon, I knew I needed help to get there. I signed up to a 10 week programme with Laura Fountain, who IS Lazy Girl Running, and hoped that not only would I make it to more than one session but that I'd notice a difference in how I ran.

After 4 weeks of attending these weekly sessions, and forcing myself to run home from work once or twice, I went along with a few of the girls from the programme to run a 10k across Wimbledon Common and Richmond Park. Apart from the icy cold temperatures, I absolutely loved it.

A few of us at work have signed up for a 10k next weekend in Regent's Park. I'd hoped it would be a real social affair but apart from a large number of us all doing the run, nothing 'tribey' has been organised. Not that I mind; I have a goal.

I want to complete this in under 60 minutes.

My average pace is between 5.35 - 5.59 so with the right conditions I could do this in between 54-56 minutes *fingers crossed*

There was a dip in my motivation at the beginning of the month but I'm back on it. I've got some gorgeous new running tights, my New Balance trainers (all 4 pairs of them) have seen better days but still a few more miles in them yet and I've got strength. That half marathon is within reach.

I'm hoping to join a local gym so that I can get back to doing weights. I have a decent level of strength to tackle hills but my legs tire after about 11k. with a quick walking break I'm usually fine but I'd like to be able complete the HM without stopping.

Dreams, dreams, dreams :) let's just complete next weeks run first!

 

Thirty-two And A Spinster - Part One

Like most Monday mornings, yesterday I found it very hard to get out of bed. I got home from my mum's and went straight to my room were I was reading until late (ish as it was still before midnight) caught up in a romantic piece of chick lit.

Then one of my housemates crashed home at 2 am after a boozy date and woke me up. So I'm tired, and apparently grouchy.

After 3 weeks of feeling poorly, I'm now feeling terribly portly! All this eating and no exercise is expanding my waistline. No fault of my own for a change, it's just amazing what a difference a break away from my routine can do.

So now that I'm back to good health, I just need to retrain my body and brain into the habit of exercising and eating better; as much as sitting on the couch eating ginger-nuts and drinking tea sounds like heaven in this bipolar weather.

• First step is to eat breakfast every day. 
• Second, try to get some protein in there.
• Third, eat a sufficient lunch and dinner.  
• Forth, run home twice a week.

I packed my bag and in it I put... my running kit and I ran home last night.

I decided to take a different route to normal, one I knew put hadn't checked the distance. By the time I got to just over 4km I could feel a dirty stitch developing underneath my ribs. I tried to run through it but it made me feel like I wanted to be sick so I gave into it, I finished logging my run and walked it out.

I didn't want to give up. I knew if I hadn't got the pain I'd have been able to run the whole way. Instead of letting the negative thoughts overcome me and giving up, I started a new workout and began jogging in a new direction. The pain was gone, my legs were still feeling okay, no harm done.

When I got home, dripping with sweat and feeling a tad over heated, I'd covered a longer distance in just over my normal time - chuffed to bits. Going to try to better this on my next run home. Typical Arian competitive streak coming out.

Getting my SEXY back is just one of the tasks I'm setting myself. There's a lot more to do!

Insomnia

I woke with a start at 4am yesterday morning, cold sweat dampening my vest top. 

I have no clear memory what I was dreaming about but when I came to I felt uncomfortable and unsettled. It took me a while to fall back to sleep and when I did I was easily woken by traffic or my night owl housemate walking around. 

There's nothing particular that's occupying my mind, in fact I've been in an unusually good mood all week, despite still fighting off a cold. 

I managed to run home from work on Monday when the temperature took a nose dive into arctic proportions. I'm eating much better, with prepared lunches and minimal snacking - the effort to have breakfast could be better but baby steps. I gave it my all at my running club this week and look forward to a longer run in Regent's Park this weekend.   

I have to confess though, I am restless. I can feel it. I can barely concentrate on one task, always itching to be on to the next, except the tasks that I should be doing to get ME ahead. 

It's been two weeks since my last coaching session and I haven't even confirmed my months goals. I have them writing down and made a start on them but I've not shared them. THAT to me shows me that my head's not in the game. 

So I guess, until my mind realises that 4am is NOT the best time to start processing life, I'll have to up my coffee intake during the day so I stay awake and push myself harder when running after work in an effort to exhaust and force a good nights sleep on it. 

Zzzzzz 

Changes I've been going through

I started this post over a week ago when I was still sunning myself on holiday but for whatever reason I didn't finish. So here goes...

I thought lying by the pool on a beautiful island like Barbados would help me get over a boat load of issues I've been carrying with me but it seems the Caribbean sun just brings them to the surface.

A few months ago I met someone new. He had left the country and we'd not spoken for weeks, I felt it was time to stop kidding myself about things 'finding their way', get off my ass and start dating. So I met this guy through a friend. He was lovely. We had easy banter and after a couple of weeks chatting we decided to meet up. A few dates later I let myself stay over at his. 

Everyone's schedule gets busy but after a couple of failed attempts to meet up afterwards, the calls and messages stopped. I was so busy with work and social activities, looking forward to my holiday, I wasn't really that fussed and it dawned on me that I perhaps didn't like him as much as I thought. C'est la vie.

I noticed that my mood was swaying between exhausted and irritable. I lost all motivation to go to the gym (not that hard as we all know) but even coming home to the girls, I just wanted to head straight to my room. My body was betraying me too and I put it down to stress. There was something very wrong. 

I left it for a week before I spoke to my housemates about it. As you may know from previous posts, I've battled with depression before, and I was worried that my behaviour was displaying it's return. 

But one morning I woke up and had a thought. I didn't believe I was, I mean how could I be? I slept with him once, it lasted 2 seconds because we were so drunk and more importantly we used protection. The facts were: my period was late, my boobs were swollen and hurt, I'd lost my appetite.

I cried so hard when I saw the test result. I convinced myself that it was a mistake and went to the doctor the very next day. I fell to the floor when she confirmed it. 

I'm in love with someone who doesn't want me. I venture out into the world again in an effort to move on and the FIRST person... 

18 days ago, 9th October, I had a pregnancy termination. 

Even putting that down in black and white I can't believe it. 

I did it at home, where two of my housemates took care of me. Both my mum and my sister (who is pregnant by the way) knew what I was going through but it was two people I'd know less than a year who held my hand, wiped the tears from my face and nursed me as I writhed on the sofa in agony. 

I cannot begin to explain what it's like to feel your body reject a life and release it or the emotional trauma you go through. By the next day I was back at my desk completing the last few tasks before my holiday. Yes they said it would be fine to travel. Yes I would most probably bleed for a few days more but I should be perfectly capable of enjoying my trip.

Even as we arrived on the Sunday, I knew I wasn't back to my normal health. I was still experiencing an odd cramping feeling occasionally, which made it hard to sit comfortably. But I found myself, 4 days in, sweat dripping from my head, clutching my body, screaming out because I'm in so much pain. 

The flight had aggravated my cervix, which caused it to become inflamed. I was rushed to a private clinic and put on a drip as I waited for the ambulance. I don't remember much else about that night until I come round in the labour ward, side effects of the pain-killers worn off and I'm having a scan. I'm lucky because I got to go home that night with a prescription of antibiotics.

The flight home undid some of the medication's hard work, I was sick as soon as I got off the plane but I didn't wait around to seek help. As soon as I got back to my London flat, I made a doctors appointment for that day. 

I'm feeling much better. The medication I'm on now does make me feel drowsy, I have unsettling dreams, I'm still off my food so I look a bit scrawny but like I said, I'm feeling much better. 

Why am I bearing my soul to the world? 

Because I need to get it out. 

I'm angry that the only contact my mum has made since I last saw her on the 28th September was a shit text about her greying hair this morning, to which I've not replied. 

I'm angry that I wasn't made aware of the dangers flying could have and that I didn't get antibiotics straight away. 

I'm angry that it affected my holiday and that when I was in the throes of pain, I was silently praying he'd get in contact with me. 

I'm angry that I found myself in that situation in the first place. 

And I'm sad that I feel so alone. That despite speaking to so many people about it, it never feels over. 

I'm sad that the people I love and want to be loved by keep me at arms length. 

I'm sad that I feel I need their love at all; that the love I have for myself isn't enough.

Then I'm really scared. I'm scared that it's ruined me. My chances of love, of being a mother one day.

These are the thoughts that have kept me awake at night, that cause the tears I cry when I'm alone. This is the pain, the disappointment and the shame I feel. These are the changes I've been going through. 

"You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice" 

Bob Marley

 

Out Of My Control

When everything seems to start working against me

I get scared and feel so lonely

Time, my own body, my thoughts

I crave for a smidgen of control, but I have none

I just have these disjointed moments when I feel normal, happy almost, and then it's gone

Like being plunged into darkness and not knowing how long you're going to be there

They say 'keep your head up' and I reply 'easier said, than done'

Because when you just want it to be over, it's hard to look for the positives

You just see the end point moving further and further away from you

You're running and going nowhere, only sleep soothes the fear

But you can't sleep forever

Especially when your world is caving in

Everything To Live For

I have 12 sleeps until I'll be jetting off to the beauty of Barbados. I booked my flights back in May and I have been holding on to my sanity ever since.

The last 14 months have been a roller-coaster of highs and depressing lows, confusing twists and turns. I feel like I deserve to treat myself to this, kind of like a little celebratory break for surviving.

Last night I started my packing. I've separated the 'holiday' wear from the 'everyday' wear so I could be clear on what I'm still missing.

Because the last 3 weeks have been a bit of a health nightmare, I've put on just under 3 kgs and it all sits on my stomach, the one place I'd worked so hard to trim down. Sods law really but I won't let it ruin my holiday.

I woke up motivated to go to the gym this evening but as usual that dread has set in. I shall go anyway. I just need to get back into the habit of exercise. I know I'll feel better for going, and will sleep like a log tonight.

I've been training for something on and off for the last year, exercise being the substitution for my lost relationship. Sad really, and yet it's probably the best thing I could have done.

It's better than going out and getting pissed, ending up in bed with a random and okay perhaps I don't enjoy it as much I probably would the getting pissed and ending up in bed with a random, but I've learnt a lot about myself in those hours spent at the gym...

• I'm actually a decent runner when I can empty my mind
• I can achieve most things I put my mind too
• I enjoy the short lived sense of achievement
• It's a great way to spend 30-45 minutes on myself

I'm sure I can lose half of that weight gain in 2 weeks if I'm just consistent and watch what I eat (she says as she finishes a mini Terry's Orange bar). So, as I check the clock... 55 minutes left of my work day... I guess I'll see you on the flip side - or the gym's changing room. Got a beach body to regain!

If I Changed My Mind

I want to talk but the words just won't escape

I really think that I've made the right decision 

But my tear-stained face tells me otherwise

It's hard to think clearly

My mind is so foggy, my vision blurred

I'm on an emotional roller-coaster

She says that it normal

I'm reacting to a sense of loss

Normal… I shouldn't be here 

Putting it out there because holding it in is toxic

I always said I'd end up doing it alone

Maybe the universe is sending it back

Am I making the right decision? 

I was so sure, but now

Am I?

Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates

They were not kidding.

Just when I feel I'm getting my life together something comes along to shake the foundations.

I've heard that if life was simple we'd all be bored, but sometimes simple is nice; sometimes simple is just what you need.

For the last couple of months I've been enjoying the flavours of my assorted chocolates. They've not been tasteless nor too overpowering, though I have felt like they lacked a certain something... special, but not enough to spit them out.  

Until this weekend.

This weekend I picked out a coffee/liquorish/celery flavoured one and it's left a REALLY nasty taste in my mouth. 

No amount of teeth brushing, mouthwash swilling will remove it. I'll have to just wait until it fades away naturally. 

Unfortunately every time I swallow it's like it refreshes the flavour, and it makes me nauseous. 

Focus on how you feel

As someone who has had body issues for as long as I can remember, it's difficult not to focus on things like 'how much you weigh' or your 'dress size'.

Growing up I was always quite active. I played Netball twice a week (practise and a game), I was on the athletics team, and would walk 5k a day (to school and back).

Once I'd done my A Levels, my life became more sedentary. Within two years I went from a UK size 10 (US 6) to a size 14 (US 10). didn't help that I was working in a pub and my routine was a late start and late finish with beer and burgers making up most of my meals. Exercise ceased to exist in my life.

However, I was completely unaware that there was anything 'wrong' with my body.

I was blissfully ignorant to the feelings of body self-consciousness until a boy I used to date as a young teenager called me 'meaty'.

Comments like that have continued to haunt me and even when people I love, including boyfriends, have tried to convince me otherwise. There's an image in my head that I'm in constant competition with. I am never satisfied.

But I've learnt that what I'm looking for is not at the end of any fad diet and the scales at the gym (because I don't own my own) are never going to make me happy.

It's going to be the way I feel in my favourite pair of jeans. The way they hug my thighs without cutting off circulation when I sit down.

It's going to be the way my t-shirts do not ride up my back when I walk and the fact that I can carry those heavy shopping bags a bit further before swapping hands.

Feeling stronger due to a healthier, active lifestyle. Looking 'better' will be an added bonus.