Towards a Better Me: Part 10

Realisation:

 

‘The Fear’ was still my training mate this week, but I had Denise back this week. ‘Did ya miss me?’, she said as she bounced down to the PT room. ‘Yes, Michelle made me do planks!’, was my reply. The laughter from her indicated she wouldn’t be taking it easy on me.

‘Any more issues since?’,

‘No’,

‘Good, time to take it back up!’

Oh, what I had let myself in for! It was a tough session, and Denise was holding no punches. But Denise had let slip, she had a new beau. The other girl taking part in the training session and I wasted no time in taking the piss and attempting to freak her out. And while it was fun to see her squirm, I was genuinely thrilled for her. Tuesday night was gone in a flash. It was quite a blur. I can only remember one of the bench presses. I couldn’t get over how heavy the 25kg bar felt. I hadn’t used it in the three weeks and it felt so heavy. It took everything to do those bench presses.

 

Thursday’s morning session was also a blur and quite tough, not helped by the fact that I had missed breakfast. Denise and I had the personal training centre to ourselves. I know I had the bench presses with the 25kg bar but I don’t know what else. Seriously, I really should write these soon as to the day as possible. It’s only been a week like! It was a very good session. I head to work after my shower very pumped and made to the office just on the stroke of nine.

 

I had my little sister and one of the bitchmittens’ founders, Rhona and her new hubby coming down the weekend and she was currently trying to convince me to go cycling. I haven’t been cycling since last June. My gears are fucked and take absolutely ages to change, which really grinds my gears. (See what I did there! Sorry I know I’m not the funny one.) And on my last bike ride, I only managed about 5km and half way through took my gear frustrations physically out on my bike and kicked the shit out of it! I may have even bent the back wheel, but I cycled back just fine. So finally, I reluctantly agreed to cycling if Pierre could fix my bike. Luckily (or unfortunately), he could and we were able to borrow bikes for Rhona and Cormac from our friends.

 

I wasn’t expecting much from me and I had told the others they may have to leave my lying on the grass somewhere while they went all the way to Crosshaven. It 15 km, I was thinking I’d be happy with 7km. It was a gorgeous day down in Carrigaline and the Carrigaline – Crosshaven Railway Walk was looking lush and green and full of people walking, running and cycling. We made our way out and everything was going well. Knees were a bit sore but that was about it. I was quite happy to fly past where I had stopped and had a fight with my bike. And I just kept going, I was in the rear but I was easily keeping up with the guys. The lads pushed forward leaving Rhona and I behind as we chatted. Though they didn’t get far. They had pulled over to take in the beautiful scenery.

 

After a barely of a minute of stoppage and a couple selfies, we were back on the trail to Crosshaven with me and Rhona leading the way. I was in great form, enjoying myself immensely, saying hello to everyone I passed. God only knows what they thought of me. Crazy lady on her purple bike! Before I knew it, we were in Crosshaven. We mused about whether to get a coffee here or head back and get one in Carrigaline to drink at the beach. Beach was the call, so back on the bikes we got and off we went. Unfortunately for me, the gears on bike were stuck in quite a high gear. And I was belting it back in, leaving the others in my dust! Pierre eventually caught up with me and I stopped to let the others catch up. Pierre has a bike computer on his, and clocked me at 28km per hour. Once I caught sight of Ro in the distance off I shot again only stopping at the end of the trail. It took the guts of 45 minutes out and only 1 minute back in. I got a chance to sit down and wait for the others. The gear issue became my undoing once we reached the big hill up to my house. I ended making the climb on foot. It seemed like the longest trek ever! I jumped back on once it had levelled out a bit and then there was only the short ride back to the house where the others were waiting.

 

All in all, it was very good day. I got to remember why I loved cycling so much. I used to go everywhere on my bike when I was younger. I was quite surprised that I was able to cycle the whole thing and with ease, if you exclude my aching knees and the hill! But when you compare it to how far I got last year, it was a clear indicator of just how much more fit I have become in only three months.

 

Now if only I could cycle the mini marathon and I be set.

 

Personal Strength Training Session

Dress code for a personal training session: non-matching track suit, (soooo not Katie Price).  The other more professional “personal training peeps” seemed to be in matching track suits…

(I don’t know how they were able to achieve that combination without looking like a total chav)

I had been at an Iyengar yoga weekend the previous week and noticed that the very amazing teacher had front thigh muscles that actually split in two, (amongst other super life, yoga, yoga teaching changing jewels of information and teaching, which is another blog in itself).  I explained to my personal trainer Steve, that this is what I would like to achieve by the end of the one hour session… He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
He then ushered me in to the consultation room, where I was told to remove my socks and shoes in order to get ready to be measured and weighed.  I ask if I needed to take more clothes off, as I didn’t want to see the scales record the weight of  garments and I don’t like wearing clothes.  Steve said that it was okay and that I should keep my clothes on… I found out that I had shrunk by an inch and I was now a probably more “normal” size 6’1/2″ foot aka 185cm (down with the kids metric measurement).

the extra pounds had been evenly distributed between my boobaloobas

The “magic scales” told me my Met Age – 35 (I now totes love Steve for bringing me this great news, one day before my agggghhhh 45th birthday). B.M.R – 1491, Vis Fat – 4, B.D – 2.5kg… all I could register in my brain was I am now 35 years old!  The scales also recorded body fat, water, lean and weight: 71.3kg.  Even though I have put on a couple of pounds (I usually weigh 69kg #rude), I was happy that the extra pounds had been evenly distributed between my boobaloobas.  This was all recorded on a sheet (not the boobaloobas bit) and explained most eloquently to me by Steve along with my ‘work plan’,what ‘sessions’ i.e cardio etc I am to do on a weekly basis.
My session for the time I had with Steve consisted of a list of weights exercises (as I previously requested).  Steve was incredibly knowledgeable on all aspects of exercise, lifts, weight/s etc.  First dead lifts, three sets of 8-10 repetitions with a 1 minute rest in between.  Now contrary to popular belief mirrors in gyms are not just for checking out your hair and doing selfies, they also serve a purpose.  Whilst lifting, pressing, pushing the weights it is useful to see ones form. As in yoga you can see where there are weakness in the body and how you can adjust, safely.

hindered by uncontrollable giggling and all round floppiness

Whilst attempting a squat lift I found my self squatting unable to push myself back up, from the floor.  This was a strange sensation and was hindered even further by uncontrollable giggling and all round floppiness.  Steve managed to safety lift me up off the floor and back into an upright position.
After completing my bar weights (Olympic bar weighs 25kg for men and 20kg for women).  This is the long “stick” type bar that you see the traditional strong men in circuses carry.  The weight is made more heavier/lighter by adding/taking away extra weights added evenly both sides at the end of the bar.  Chanel or Gucci don’t make them….I was moved onto the Kettle Bell swing.  Using a competition 12kg bell, I “swung” it from in between my legs to eye level.  Once one understood the momentum of the bell one could start ‘swinging’ but without having proper concentration ‘powers’ (of more that 5 seconds).  I found myself being lifted off the floor and moving towards the wall!  I was reminded by Steve to concentrate and stay back on my heals, which lead to lots of screaming and trying not to fall about!

Barbies first kettle bell weight

Lastly we moved on to “windmills” with a what looked like Barbies first kettle bell weight (8kg)…I thought this would be totes easy as the ‘windmill’ looked like similar to the yoga pose trikonasana/triangle, holding the Barbie weight up high towards the ceiling…this proved to be the hardest exercise confirming to myself that I am a right weed, with no balance, concentration or stability (mentally or other)..I also had the best time in this exercise, screaming, laughing and attempting to again stay up right!  Uprightness is soooo overrated.

 

Uprightness is soooo overrated.

We finished the session with some stretching and talked about a program going forwards. I love ‘baby weight training’, I don’t want to bulk up, just get stronger and have more stamina.  I totally had a super time at the session, felt great and with the assurance that Steve was by my side I was able to safely attempt, come into and out of all exercises without injuring myself.
I spoke to Steve about how long, if a regular program was carried out would it take me to see results.  He told me to take selfie without many clothes on, (all I could think of was excellent, how many people can I send it to? Apparently it is “just for yourself”) to monitor your own progress…booooo. And that it wouldn’t take too long!
That evening I looked forward to attempting to bring my inner and outer thighs together later on during the week, without the aid of clamps or ice… One day later I am scooting round on my bottom like a nappied baby who hasn’t quite learnt how to walk. Looking forward to my split thighs.
Namaste & go raibh maith agat

xxx

Bitchmittens Ellen

 

Links and notes
Steve Killeen (available for classes and one to one personal training totes recommend, The Engine Room, Portumna).
Sent from my iPhone (Note from Ed: Because that’s how Ellen roles)

http://www.engineroomportumna.ie/

Final note – this header image is not of the gorgeous Ellen, but it may as well be. She’s a big ride. 

Towards A Better Me: Part 7

 

Lacking Motivation

 

The past few weeks have been really tough for me. There is a lot of stuff going on in my life at the moment. And it all has me extremely stressed out. It always feels like it one step forward two steps back. Every time I seem to make progress towards potentially having a baby, some new obstacle rears its stupid ugly head. It’s so frustrating and de-moralising. It’s so hard when these road blocks crop up, to keep going forward. I am a very emotional person. I can very excited over things. It can be quite a rollercoaster. Sometimes, I wish I was more like Pierre. He is always in the middle emotionally.

 

I had taken a day off work as I had to go get a glucose test done. It’s not easy trying to drink Lucozade when you are not hungover! But thankfully, all is good. I did arrange for my personal training with Denise a bit earlier than normal. We went down to the new personal training centre. We started off with step ups alternating with the battle rope. Man, that thing is not as ease is it looks. Trying to keep that up for 30 seconds was really tough. This was followed up with three round of bench presses using a 20kg bar. Finishing up with squats with the 10kg powerbag and my all time favourite walking lunges. Urgh. Nearly fell over on the third round. Afterwards, I had booked myself in for a new gym programme. I felt like I had outgrown the circuit room. So, Denise whipped one up for me. Looking forward to giving it a go at the weekend. I was quite stiff the following day but yoga loosened that up a bit.

 

Wednesday arrived, and all the emotions I had been trying to shove down came bubbling to the surface. I came home from work. I felt so lost. I didn’t know what to with myself. Everyone seems to have an opinion on what I should be doing. I ended up having a fight with Pierre and then with my mother and father. I even hung up on my mother, when she agreed with Pierre. Seriously, can anyone just be on my side once in a while. Instead of going to Bootcamp, I sat on the couch and cried. I thought what was the point of going. Everything was conspiring against to keep me from being a mother. Even if the regulating of my periods was the first step to being in a position to conceive, current events meant that it wouldn’t be advisable to even try, at least not for now. Maybe, it was down to turning 31 recently. Maybe, it was down to me having my period (yay?). This is the first time in my entire life where I have had a natural period back to back. I should be happy about that. But with the things going on at the moment, it was having the opposite effect. It was like my body was taunting me. Oh, look you have a normal cycle, but you can’t do anything about it!

 

Even in work the following day, I just wasn’t right. I was just so upset. I just felt that it was so unfair. I just threw myself into a set of accounts. I was so stressed out and upset, Judi even recommended going out for some air. But I didn’t go, I probably should have. I came home and didn’t go to pilates. I sat down, ate my dinner. And wrote. When I wrote the first blog post, it felt so good to get the feelings down. So, I hoped doing it again would to. It didn’t. I felt so lost. I feel like I am a shadow. A leaf being blowing around by a gust of wind but not in the direction I want to go in.

 

I had another personal training session on Friday, as it was only time available with Denise. I couldn’t miss that too. Denise would certainly kill me for that. So, I bucked up and went. This was the start of the final week after all, I got in early so I could talk to Susan on the desk about my options going forward. After discussing how I got on and what I enjoyed. I really love doing the PT sessions and its mostly down to Denise being great craic. So, I signed up for the intense kickstarter package for another six weeks. With the intense kickstarter, I get two personal training sessions and three classes. So no excuses! Its an extra €100 but thankfully they are flexible with the payment.

 

We were down in the personal training centre again. And this time, we had it to ourselves. It didn’t take long for Denise to grill me on my classes. I did confess to her that I didn’t do them this week and why. I started off with upright rows with two 8kg kettlebells while lying face down on a bench. I had done this in the second week session but with two 6kg dumbbells. This was paired with kettlebell swings with one of the 8kg. I have to say, I POWERED through these. This was followed up with using the beast of a leg press. It was massive. It was tough. I was a bit scared that it would crush me. This was paired with steps up intertwined with the chats about all the shit that is going on. We finished up on with the squats with the powerpivot bar and the rip60 rows (the leaning tower of pain). And then it was over, with it a lot of the stress that had been ruining my week.

 

It was a very good session. It certainly made me regret not doing the classes earlier. I took my frustrations out. I chatted about it all with Denise and the other girl in our session. She had such a positive non-stress attitude. I was certainly envious of that. She was all “Ah sure fuck it!” Man, I wish I could be like that. My life would be so much easier if I could just let all the stress and shit go.

 

Saturday morning as usual is weigh-in. No change on the scales, I was so disappointed. I was quite pressed for time, as we were going over to our friend’s house to watch the Ireland match. So I didn’t do a full routine. My sister Rhona was pestering me about not doing enough running. Well, no running. But it is hard to find time to do it! So instead of doing a full routine, I just did 20 minutes of intervals on the treadmill. Got through 2.5 km with roughly half and half walking and running.

 

I went for tea and scones with the girls on Sunday, while of husbands trained for the Ballycotton 10. We chatted, looked at an ultrasound scan and I had a scone (bold I know!) The boys joined us for lunch/dinner and I had a bun burger (bolder I know but I only ate half though). It was very enjoyable and it was so destressing. Nearly more so than, the personal training. Sometimes, all you need is your girlies to set you straight.

 

 

Weight: 12st 8.4lbs

Run: 2.5km on a treadmill. (walk/run intervals)

Feelings: Emotional, Raw at the start of the week. But feeling much better at that end of the week.

 

 

 

Towards A Better Me: Part 6

Back in the Saddle

 

Last week I let pain and fear throw me. But this is a new week, and it’s time to get back in the saddle. As I said before, it’s a marathon not a sprint. It is ok to fall down, it’s human. What is important is that you pick yourself back up and try again. So, I am dusting myself and getting back on this horse. And I am very much hoping it doesn’t put me through the wringer again. There is only so much debilitating pain a lass can handle! But despite the excruciating pain, I really do enjoy going to the gym. Rhona had warned me about women only gyms being a bit more judgmental than mixed gyms. But honestly, it doesn’t feel like that at the Women’s Fitness Plus gym. And what way to start the week other than having a go in the newly fitted personal training studio. It looks amazing, they have this huge multi-purpose gym monster thing, three squatting racks, and apparently, there is a lot more to come. Denise, my personal trainer, was super excited about it. She hadn’t left there all day. To be honest, I was pretty excited too, and a wee bit scared. I had seen a video on their Facebook page of one of the personal trainers testing it out. It looked awesome but she was doing shit that I could not possibly imagine doing myself.

 

First up was step-ups paired with kettlebell squats. These were done alternating as usual for 3 rounds. The first two rounds I used an 8kg kettlebell with a 6kg dumbbell for the last round. I followed that up with chest press with two 6kg dumbbells alternating with an upright row with 8kg kettlebell. The final combo was high knees and “PowerPivot” arm raises. Finishing up using the straps, leaning back and the pulling myself back almost upright or the leaning tower of flab as I called it. It was very hard going doing it all but once it’s all over I feel so pumped. I was soaked in sweat. Denise joked about her barely being able to do a pull-up on the rig. And I, stupidly, challenged her to one. Seriously, what was I thinking. I think weights make my brain fuzzy. She did two. The first seemed easy but the second was a struggle. She dropped down quite triumphant, and then it was my turn. I stood up on the bench and grabbed on to the bars. I was barely able to lift myself up by an inch or so, before my arms gave out. Pathetic I know. But if someone super fit like Denise found it tough, that brief tango with the pull up bar, is surely nothing to be sneered at.

 

I was very much relieved to find myself not in too much pain the next day. I was stiff, but nothing to write home about. And I had yoga with D to look forward to. While some poses were sore from the stiffness, it was quite enjoyable. Plus, the gossip in the car rides to and fro certainly is enjoyable. Hard to have a proper goss session if the hubbies are in tow. As I stretched to take off my bra, there was a flash of pain across my shoulders, tensed me right up. Flashbacks from last week’s agony surfaced. “Oh, don’t tell me it starting all over again.” Went to sleep, dreading what tomorrow would bring.

 

So, morning came, but the pain did not! Hurrah! No excuse not to do boot camp tonight then. Yeah!!! Denise came bouncing in, super giddy, after her body combat class. She spots me straight away and asks me “how’s the pain?” I was a bit cocky, “Yeah, no pain at all!” “So we can go harder next Monday then?” she laughs back at me. Oh no, landed myself in it. As there was twelve of us, we were paired off rather than going in groups of three or four. I was paired off with Joan who had similar fitness level to mine which suited me. Everyone else seems so much fitter and more able than me. Like with the personal training session, the exercises were done in alternating sets with 3 pairs of sets. The first set was one person sitting up against the wall (obviously not on the floor) and holding your arms out, which was a whole lot tougher than it sounds. While the other person, did high knees and trying to touch the other person hands with their knees. Again, quite tough. On the last set, I struggled to keep up on both. But I shaked it out and kept trying.

 

The next set was press ups with every time you push yourself up, you clap hands with your partner. Changing the hand each time. This was paired with mountain climbers, which for love nor money I can’t just get a handle on. Seriously why do I have so much trouble doing these, everyone else makes it look so easy. It’s the same with the elliptical I just can’t handle it; I can’t do it. The next set was one person doing ab crunches and the other standing on the first’s toes for their balance and with a kettlebell lifting it above the head. The last set, oh the last set. I did not enjoy the last set. The first person leaning against the wall did arm extensions with the kettlebell while the other is did lunges across the room and back twice. And that was the torturous part. I hate lunges so much. Lunges and burpees with equal venom. I thought I was going to collapse after the first one. I wanted to cry it hurt so much. But I kept going trailing behind everyone else. Now, I completely forgot to mention that Denise was literally dancing around while we were torturing ourselves. Which was quite funny, and dulled the pain somewhat, but not totally. So, halfway through the last round of the kettlebell extensions, Denise told us just to dance it out with her. To finish, we did intervals of jogging on the spot and sprinting. Exhausted was an understatement.

 

Both me and my husband work in the Cork city centre which is totally handy for commuting seeing as we only have the one car and Pierre has a car space at work. But the carpark is a twenty-minute walk from South Mall. This is normally not much of a problem. I just stick on the music and walk away. Anyways, I normally end up waiting for Pierre. But when it is lashing rain like Thursday was, it’s not so much fun. Even worse so, when after walking all the way within spitting distance of the carpark, (well a world record setting spit really!) some complete and utter b*****d tore around the corner, straight through a puddle drenching me from head to toe. I was as miserable as the weather. Sopping wet. All I wanted was a bath and my bed. And you are probably wondering why I’m talking about this, as opposed to my fitness journey. See on Thursday’s I have Pilates, and I was so miserable, cold and wet, I decided to skip the Pilates class this week. I just seem to be working, exercising or sleeping, and I felt a little rest was in order.

 

So, I had my weekly weigh-in on Saturday morning as usual, it was a little later than normal. Poor Pierre had to work so I dropped in him and got my gym session in first, and then into Dee for the all-important weigh-in. I was down another 2.5 pounds. I was now just shy of half stone in total. I was now half way through the Kickstarter program and was making steady progress towards my target of 10-14 pounds. I was supposed to go for a run on Sunday, but instead I cleaned my oven. My house is seriously being neglected at the moment. I need to get better organised, it’s not going to get any easier if and when there is the pitter patter of little feet.

 

Weight: 12st 8.8lbs

Run: 1km on a treadmill.

Feelings: Feeling much better this week. Mood is definitely boosted (apart for the soaking by the jerk in the white Ford Focus)

Towards a Better Me: Part Five

A Little Stumble

 

Pain and me are not great friends, we aren’t even close acquaintances. I was just never any good coping with any small niggle. So much so it’s become a bit of a running joke among my family and friends. My Ma has stated numerous times that she wants to be nowhere near me if I ever go into labour. One of my colleague’s still skits me over having to get a plaster (or gauze as she claims) for a papercut. In my defence, it was quite a deep cut, wouldn’t stop bleeding and really really sore! So I was quite relived to be starting this week out pain free. My mood was definitely up heading into the Women’s Fitness Gym. I had arranged to have my personal training session on Monday after work, and I was looking forward to getting in and having Denise push me beyond my own expectations.

 

Off we went to the personal training centre in the second building and got stuck in. We did a number of the different exercises using a barbell with 7.5 kg on each side and one with 5kg on each side. As well as two 6kg dumbbells. And a 12kg kettlebell. I did some bench presses, overhead presses, deadlifts, lunges, and the others that I just can’t remember. It is like as soon as I come out I completely forget what I have done. It was tough but I pushed through and did all of my reps. Though I did struggle near the end of the sets. The last one was with the kettlebell I thought was the toughest. But I did it. I was on bit of a high afterwards. My God, the sweat coming out me was unreal. Drenched was definitely an understatement.

 

The following day I was only slightly sore in my shoulders and arms. I was feeling on top of the world. I felt like I could take on anything. It was also the first back at Yoga tonight and I was looking forward to going with one of my besties, D. The class was packed and as there was a lot of new people in the class, so it was mostly back to basics. But with the stiffness, I was glad of the slower pace. Though there were a few moments of strain and pain, on the whole, I really enjoyed it. Plus the banter in the car with D is always good.

 

I woke about 5am on Wednesday in absolute agony. My entire upper body was on fire. I couldn’t straighten my arms or even move them too much. Washing and dressing myself was pure torture. I was very glad that my commute is shared with Pierre, if I wasn’t I probably wouldn’t have made it out of the driveway. I would just be there sitting, in the car, crying my eyes out. And it didn’t get any easier when I got into work. I had to re-arrange my whole desk. Judi thought my constant complaints and noises were very funny. The further the day went on the more I dreaded having to go to boot camp that evening. If simply moving the mouse was painful, what the hell were burpies gonna be like! My mood was a stark contrast to the day before. I was so happy and bubbly yesterday. Raving at D about how good I felt. Now, I was trying my best not burst out crying from simply lifting my mug to drink my green tea (which to be honest I don’t really like, but have to have two a day!). I was not enjoying this. I had a nice chat with Bitchmitten’s Emily and that pepped me up a bit. But it wasn’t to last with the constant pain. Simply standing with my hand hanging was unbelievable sore. Pockets were my friend when I was walking. I decided that boot camp was not going to be feasible with me in this condition. Instead, I took a hot bath with an ass load of my homemade lavender epsom salts. Lying in the bath was the first time I was pain free, it was lovely. I’m not really a bath person. I much prefer showers. Normally I need to be do a crossword in a bath otherwise I’m just bored and am in and out in a couple minutes. My brain always seems to need some sort of stimulation. It’s a frikin’ pain. But I stayed for about 45 minutes. I sat down after I got out and let out a sigh of relief at being pain free. It was short lived. After ten minutes out of the bath I could feel my whole upper body stiffen up, and the pain came back just as much as before.

 

The following day again brought no relief. My mood was very poor. I felt like someone had turned the lights out on me. I was a poor reflection of the woman that was here two days previous. I was very upset. In the morning, trying to get out to work, I never even thought to bring my lunch or my snacks. By the time lunch had arrived, I was so down. I turned to my old habits of comfort eating. Now in saying that, I did not eat an entire mountain of chocolate. I didn’t even eat any chocolate. I ate nothing sweet (which actually amazed me.) I decided that I was gonna have a little cheat treat and go order my favourite lunch, Sizzling prawns. So yummy, but so not what the food plan says. They are the most amazing prawns ever. And they do actually come out sizzling in hot chilli oil with a nice fresh side salad and lovely crispy chips. While it didn’t take away the pain, it did do something to lift my mood.

 

Work went on with me moaning and groaning, poor Judi having to listen to me. When I got home, I was just so exhausted, so drained of energy. I could not face having to get in the car again in an hour and drive to the gym for a Pilates class. I couldn’t think of the pain I would be in. I was still so very sore. I was scared of the pain but I was also scared to go to the class and not be able to do it. Afraid to show myself up. I knew the Pilates would probably beneficial for my current state but the fear was tightening its hold upon me.

 

I could tell you that I overcame the fear and went and did it anyway and felt so good to do it. But I’d be lying. And there be no benefit for me in doing this blog, if wasn’t going to be honest with you. I let fear win that day. I tried to justify to myself, oh the pain, I wouldn’t be able for it. It would be better if I just had another soak. That on Saturday I would get back on track with my training and push through. Instead of going, I busied myself with my food prepping for the week to come. Before having another soak, this doubling the amount of salts (probably more tripled, I just tipped about a third of litre in.) I don’t regret not going. I know there will be a lot more pain and hopefully with each week my body will get better at recovering from this. But pain and me are never going to be friends. I can’t guarantee that fear won’t freeze me again. But I am still determined to continue. I am not quitting. I am going to keep powering through.

Weight: 12st 11.2 lbs

Run: 0km (I know I am just so bad. I really need to get out running, that 5k is coming up soon!)

Feelings: The sheer agony of it all. Really wanted to spend the week curled up in a ball crying.

 

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