Moving from Fife to the Highlands has been like moving from Oz to Scotland, in miniature. My brain wandered down the same path as ten years ago:
First stage – running around like a mad chook securing employment, with a cloud of self-doubt lurking overhead. You suck! You have nae skills! Get set to live in a cardboard box, CHUMP!
Second stage – frazzled by all that putting-oneself-out-there, giving in to urge to hide from the world in my tracky dacks and eat chocolate.
Luckily I recognised the pattern in early November and deployed the same solution as I did in 2003: lift heavy objects!
I was digging the river walks, but my exercise was missing the RARRRRR Factor. Walking generates feelings of zen and goodwill, but I wanted to generate some badassery!
Initially I thought I’d join a gym, having sold off my dumbbell collection due to lack of space at Chez Nessie. But then I randomly found a personal trainer who was not only very affordable but a big fan of ladies lifting heavy weights. And she’d linked to a Stumptuous article on her Facebook page, the very website that got me hooked on weights way back in 2001. She had to be a good egg!
And she is. I’ve had weekly sessions since the start of November and I feel bloody awesome! She has proper weighty weights with the chunky bar and big plates; it’s all very She-Ra. And there’s boxing gloves and pads too, so we can extract the very last of my energy with a final flurry of punches.
I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier! I get to do the kinds of exercise I love most, but customised to my dilapidated knee situation. It took a bit of budget shuffling (I became obsessed with budgeting this year. Anyone else? Is that too dull of a thing to write about!?) but it was so worth making a priority.
The heavier the weights get, the lighter I feel. I’m daydreaming of doing a pull-up someday. And that optimism is spilling over to other areas of life. I didn’t notice how ordinary I’d been feeling ’til I started feeling good. POW!
(I realise this is a random rubbishy kind of post but I just want to get back on the writing wagon!)
Loose ends:
- After four months inside, Mother-In-Law Mary left hospital at the end of October to continue her recovery at home. She is an absolute champ!
- The Bed Bits never surfaced. Methinks I chucked them away in my downsizing frenzy. But I called the manufacturer and they’re are sending us a “Replenish Kit” with all the bits. The fact that it has a name shows I’m not the only dickhead who has done this!
