Health and Fitness

This evening I went for my first run in well over a decade. I was keen, enthusiastic and clad in lycra. The lycra was probably a bad idea because I am not Kylie when it comes to my bum.
As I like to say; Not quite Kylie, not yet Lisa Riley. If you don't know Lisa Riley, Google her.

In preparation for my first run since I was in sixth form, I purchased 'serious running gear' ie lycra trousers and trainers. The trainers were non negotiable as I suffer from shin splints since my last 'serious' attempt at exercise when I became a blue belt in kickboxing. This is what I do. I buy the kit, decide it will be part of my new life, and then discover I am crap at it. Why I could not just have managed with my trackies instead of cropped lycra Addidas running trousers is anybody's guess.
Fortunately, I ran with people I love and trust.
Before we went I enthusiastically asked-
"So how far are we running?"
"About a mile and a half- takes about 15 minutes."
"Is that all? Are we going twice?"
"You haven't run since sixth form, let's see how we get on today"

OH MY GOD! I did in fact mange to run 75% of the way and walk for the rest, but really. I sounded like Mutley when I got back. I was about 5 minutes behind the men. Rubbish. My sister writes her blog about her insane fitness regime and runs ALL the time. She would be ashamed.
I got back and said that my body was not tired but I had this tightness in my throat and chest- "What is that all about?"
"You're not fit"
Fair enough. I cannot blame some undiagnosed asthma or chest problem. I am an unfit slob.
I aim to improve my 75% to 100% and to decrease my time and increase my distance but I cannot see me becoming Paula Radcliffe anytime soon. I doubt whether on getting home from a lame run, Paula cracks open the wine and selects 4 of Gordon Ramsay's finest chocs to shovel into her Mutley face. As I type this, I am drinking rose from a tumbler. Classy and healthy.

I've never been the embodiment of fitness I'd like to be. Over the years I've tried all sorts. After one relationship I was in ended, I was so distraught, I joined a gym but was utter rubbish and would count the minutes down before I could leave.
I did become a kickboxer for some years which I loved but I never shifted the excess 14lbs I was carrying despite the twice a week, very hard class.
I took up swimming in 2009 and have been doing that week in week out for over 12 months but I only stick to that so I don't let my brother in law down. We are partners and neither of us would stick to it without the other.

Now that I'm not such a miserable cow as I was last year, I need to work at keeping my weight off. I keep a picture of myself on the fridge from 5 years ago. It's hideous. I don't want to be her again.
Thus, I have taken up running.

I would imagine that a health professional would advise a healthy diet alongside an exercise regime. Today my breakfast was a Cadbury's Flake washed down with a Diet Coke- 'The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast'.

I constantly seek 'easy' ways to be fit and slim. I imagine myself losing lbs on the wii fit but when I talk to people who have them, they don't have the sort of body I want. I'm thinking Helena in her prime. Slim but curvy and healthy looking. I am curvy, yes...but a little on the wobbly side in some areas.

As with many women, I know that as soon as I am a size 8 and have a pert bottom and toned legs, my life will be complete. I will meet somebody incredible and everything will be marvellous.
Until then, I will be Mutley, trying not to be noticed in my lycra.

Triggers

I have a big bottle of Vera Wang Truly Pink perfume which I bought especially for my Wedding Day. I wanted a scent that would remind me of the day whenever I smelled it. Fortunately it does not. I love the perfume but it does not remind me of the day. Other smells are very evocative of past memories. Polo Sport reminds me of being 18 and the boyfriend who bought me it. Coal tar soap always reminds me of my grandparents bathroom in Derbyshire.

I see photographs of certain places and city scapes in the world, and I desperately want to be there.

Music triggers all sorts of feelings. I am listening to a song this week that makes me want to be in love. Some pieces of music actually make me cry. Mostly they come from films. I cannot listen to the Gladiator soundtrack without getting emotional at Elysium. Wet cow. Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong century. I have always been this way. Things affect me far too deeply.

People trigger the strongest feelings. Some people make me feel great and I feel happy and alive in their company. Some inspire and motivate me. Others make me want to find the nearest cliff and push them off it!
All the books I read tell me you should seek the company of those in the first group and cut those in the latter out. At work we joke about someone we know who is such an emotional vampire, we call her 'dementor'. She really is. You feel the joy leave your body when you talk to her.

I need to learn that I cannot change anyone else's behaviour but that all I can change is my own reaction to them. Water off a duck's back, smile sweetly and zone out.
Perhaps the trick is just to pretend and then it becomes second nature? I keep being told that I must not let things get to me. I wonder how this is done?
I read quite a lot of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy in November. I did a lot of the exercises...made myself some promises to break behaviour patterns. I failed within hours. My own worst enemy. I know the theory...I just don't like it. CBT is back on the shelf gathering dust now.
Some research suggests that just being aware of your own flaws and patterns is a giant step. I have taken so many of these giant steps now I am Neil Armstrong!
I like to think of myself as a work in progress. One day I'll be a fabulous finished product.

Holidays

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
I am booked on a holiday. I can tick that off the list, even though I have to travel in stupid married name.
I am off to Istanbul for a few days in April, courtesy of my sister and her excellent freebies.
I am really looking forward to it. It's in my travel book as one of the 'must-see places'. I am a little spoilt with holidays now having been on some fairly great ones in the last two years. Istanbul makes the grade though.

So now I know where and when I'm going, the next thing is packing. It will surprise you to learn I make lists for packing too. One holiday I went on, I packed two cases so carefully so that if one went missing, there would still be EVERYTHING I needed in the other. But what I pack in the way of clothes is usually CRAP.

I pack things imagining I will wear them, but never do and end up hand washing the same things for the duration of the holiday. So for all my lists, I may as well just throw random crap into the case and worry about it when I am there, instead of being meticulous about it beforehand and hating everything on arrival. This time the weather will be pretty similar to UK so although I KNOW this, I am still looking at my Summer clothes and wondering what to take. Idiot.

On my last holiday I bought two new dresses specifically for two evenings out and wore neither. One was too small after all the mojitos I had drunk during the week and the other I decided was too OTT and I went for trousers instead. Money well spent.

Holidays are about new experiences. I had a few holidays with my ex and hated his attitude that a holiday was about sitting on your backside in a non descript area drinking and smoking. He sometimes wouldn't get up until the early afternoon. Some people might like this sort of holiday. Not me. I have paid to be away from my usual surroundings..I'd like to see somewhere new. I want to see the sights, go places and try things. I will sit and have a drink in the evening when the sun is going down. Before then...forget it.

On holiday I like to try some food I don't normally eat but this has backfired on me too. I tried some odd yogurty thing in a restaurant in Dubai because it was unusual sounding (it was my first night there). I thought, I will be adventurous and try new things....in reality it was inedible. I also suffered badly in the Maldives with some spicy food. I somehow managed to get dysentry a few years ago and as well as the many joys that brings, you get left with permanent bowel scarring which can mean rich/spicy food is OUT.

What I REALLY dislike though is eating the same old rubbish you eat at home when you can embrace the flavours of another country. A child I know recently told me about the great burger bar he spends all his time in on holiday in Greece. I felt so sad.

The last three holidays I went on, I had NO desire to come home. I know this is normal but I REALLY did not want to come home from the last one, to the point I applied for- and got a job there. Turned it down though. Won't work.
It's part of the magic of holidays. Escapism.
It wouldn't be the same to live there. I will have to have that big lottery win so I can live a holiday lifestyle everyday. I wonder if I'll want to move to Istanbul in a few weeks time.

So where next? Where shall I go after this holiday? I have 3 of the places in my travel book ticked off, soon to be 4. Only another 300 pages to go.

Everything Is Never Quite Enough

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fSxZfK60xs&feature=PlayList&p=8E6BEC76E138A871&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=35

That's the song from which I've stolen the title of this blog. 1) I love the film, 2) I love the song too.

Anyway, it describes how I feel about something I heard this week at work.
I am losing one of my 'team'. Their camp is not happy about not getting their own way on something. So they are moving somewhere else. I'm disappointed to say the least.
I work really hard for this particular person and ensure their needs are met. Everything is never quite enough. Not that I think the decision was based on what I have or have not done. It was far more political than that, but I don't think their camp has though things through at all.

Why is it, the more you do for somebody, the more they expect, even if you have gone way beyond the call of duty? Shame.

I have a gratitude doll in my bedroom. I used to wear a particular necklace that would remind me to be grateful whenever I caught sight of it. Then I got a doll, one of those Kimmidolls. I saw it on a shopping trip and was looking for something that would remind me to be grateful. It appealed to me. On the box it said that the particular doll meant gratitude. Perfect. A meant to be.
I do look at it and remember to be grateful. On and off I also keep a book of things to be grateful for, I write 5 things per day when I do it. What you think about, you bring about....more things to be grateful for.

What I'm saying is that I think this loss is so unnecessary. They are not thinking about all the very wonderful things they have currently, that they will not get if they move.
Some people will never be happy. Nothing is EVER good enough for some people.

I have days when I wish I'd not met certain people, wish I had met others at different junctions, had more money, had more excitement, taken opportunities etc.
But really I don't have it bad at all. I am healthy, I love my job, I have great family, some great friends, I am reasonably intelligent, I've been on some great holidays...etc etc.

Today I'm grateful for my brother in law, my job which was so rewarding today, the fact my skinny jeans still fit, my upcoming holiday and chocolate!

Filtering

I've had many a conversation with my mum and sisters about filtering. Some people are totally incapable of filtering their words and thoughts.
Everyone, at many times during their day, thinks something about the person they are talking to. It is not always complimentary.
The trick is to filter those thoughts and ensure THEY DO NOT ESCAPE.
For instance; after spilling lavender shampoo all over my overnight bag, someone I know remarked- 'ooh, lavender, old lady smell.'
Thanks. No, in fact Loreal for Kids shampoo.
In my younger years someone who thought he was terribly clever told me I had 'equine features'.
Yes arsehole, I know equine is horse.
When I was carrying a stone more than I am now, somebody on a course I was on said- 'Oh, are you pregnant?'
I said, 'No, just overweight thanks.'
She was mortified - GOOD.
FILTER IT.

We've all had these comments and wondered whatever posessed the person who made the remark. What made them think this was an ok thing to share?
This weekend I was told I sounded like Katie Price. OH MY GOD.
Ok, so though I may like to think I sound more like Liz Hurley, I know this is not the case.
However, I am quite certain I do not sound like the queen of all that is plastic, tacky and cheap.
I was told not to take it 'the wrong way'.
What?
What OTHER way is there to take being told 3 times, you sound like Katie Price?
If you have any ideas, do drop me a line.
I expect this sort of thing from children. They say whatever pops into their heads.
'Why is your face all covered in spots?'
I stopped eating Heinz Sandwich Spread after my long time best friend at primary school remarked once -
'It looks like sick.'
But she was 6, maybe 7.
I don't expect it from sensible adults.

I do try and filter what I say. But because of the nature of today's blog, and because they won't read it, here are a few of my, until now, filtered comments;

• You are such a pretty girl, but please get some facial Veet
• Oh my God, that is the worst wig I have ever seen....oh no wait, that is your actual hair!
• I may have 'equine features', but you are hideous, have goofy teeth and Status Quo hair
• Your clothes were ludicrously cheap and therefore look ludicrously cheap
• No, your boyfriend is not 'wonderful', he is a freeloading sleazebag

But I have never said those things.
Like the whale shark, I filter.

Bullying

As a child and teenager, I was never bullied. Lucky me.
I now work somewhere where I have never seen any hint of bullying in seven years.
Today I had a text message that nearly floored me. It's not the first time. It was from the idiot I divorced. Sharing our dog was never going to be easy and I knew he would attempt to wear me down in order that I gave up. I didn't expect quite so much quite so soon.
I burst into tears at my place of work today, and for the second time this week. I cannot describe to anyone how this person makes me feel. I wish I could get people to feel what I feel, just for a second. I cannot be strong like they want me to be. It's not there. I am all out of strong where he is concerned.
Going in for teabreak this afternoon and to hide my tears from people I work with, it dawned on me that this is what bullying must feel like.
I cannot cope with ANYTHING. I shake. I make no sense to anyone which they find understandably frustrating. My first reaction is to phone the people who love me. I feel like I need rescuing, and someone else to deal with it. I feel guilty that there are other people dealing with much bigger things than this, but after this length of time, my reserves are so low. There is no fight left.
Some people I work with are amazed at how calm I have remained - and by this they mean I have not swung for him or had someone else do it. This is not me. I cry. I run to my mum. I run to my family and friends.
I wish I could find some way that it would all be water off a duck's back. I don't know how to and I feel pathetic. I am well aware that a professional woman in her early 30's should not become a gibbering wreck at a few spiteful, bullying text messages but that is in fact the reality.
There is no reasoning with my ex. He is the most unreasonable person I have EVER met. He denied me access to my dog for many months, so I took him to court. Now, after less than three weeks, I am being accused of neglect, having caused my dog an injury, and being held to ransom on time over my short weekend with him. He will not allow me to administer treatment, so is insisting I return my dog a day early and saying if I do not, I am not considering his welfare. I feel like I have no choice. And this is less than three weeks in. This could go on for years.
How do people with children cope in these situations?
I have never, ever considered myself a victim. But for the first time in my life, at my age, I think I am being bullied and it's awful.

So much to do, so little inclination.

I have already mentioned my list making. As I sit here and write this, there is a small ring bound pad next to me with a list of urgent things to do. Half are ticked. I have done all of the 'easy' things on there and am now writing my blog, rather than do my online shop (it ALWAYS crashes), apply for a position that would further my career and post a letter to another country, because I never seem to have the time to get to the Post Office.
In my diary, I have a list of things to do at the beginning of each month. Today is the first of March and I still have a task from January hanging over me. If I don't do that, this months first task is a pointless waste of time.
I want to book myself a holiday. I have no idea where. I just need one. I always need a holiday.
I cannot go where I was hoping to go as my sister is selfishly leaving the country. (She will read this and know I am joking...I hope)
So instead, I must look at other options and consider a holiday alone. I had a couple of days alone in York in January and really enjoyed myself. I did a Buddhist retreat in July and loved it, despite not knowing a soul. Perhaps it would be good to get away for a bit on my own.
I definitely suffer from SAD and am craving the sun after what seems like an eternity of grey and wet.
I have a SAD lamp, much to the amusement of my family. - 'It's so you, why would you NOT have one?'

I intend to tick 'book a holiday' off my list asap..but I'll need my passport. I need a new one as the one I have is in my unfortunate married name. This will involve a new picture. My last picture was hideous. I look about 100 years old and have BAD hair. The passport before this featured a picture which my mum said resembled 'vacant porn star'. It would be good to find some middle ground, though of the two, vacant porn star was preferable.
I wonder where a vacant porn star would go away in early June? I'll make a list of ideas.