Serious/Less serious
1. Bloody hell, Colorado! It's horrifying watching coverage of the fires sweeping through – thank goodness there has been minimal loss of life so far. Those conditions sound simply horrific, and all those homes and habitat lost is just heartbreaking. I have friends in the area who are out helping with relief efforts and, just as when such things happen here, the one single positive is the way that so many people have worked together to help each other. But still, I feel reasonably certain no one needed that much character built.
2. Ladies, please take better care of your health! I've had another dear friend fall in a heap due to lack of focus on her body as a biological construct, and it's pissing me off as much as it's upsetting me.
As women, we seem encouraged to spend more time worrying about the aesthetics of our bodies than about their functionality. Which is bullshit. Fitness is so important, and it's just not emphasised (unlike diet and thinness, which is apparently the raison d'etre of women's existence), which is stupid, because exercise is the number one thing that you can do to improve your health right away and continuously thereafter. And you don't need to be putting in a massive effort, simple things like leaving the car at home and walking, taking the stairs rather than the lift or escalator, and getting off the bus a stop early all add up.
My friend is thin, and so has been telling herself she is fit. But when we recently ran for a bus, she could only manage about 10 steps and then I had to sprint ahead and hold it for her, convincing the driver to take pity on the middle-aged and out of shape through a combination of blarney and a shameless abuse of cleavage. When she got on the bus, she was puffing away, and I expressed concern at her lack of fitness.
She pointed out that my arse is three sizes larger than it was when we met, which is true – I started off with a teeny arse, but put on weight after I shattered my foot, and then more later on when the tendonitis got bad. Indeed, my arse has been even larger than it is at the moment. But I tensed my glutes, grabbed her hand, and demonstrated that most of that arse is muscle, which is why I can run fast despite buggered legs. I mentioned my friend Emma, who is a size 18 and runs marathons. And then there is that girl I don't know at the gym who is basically built like a brick shithouse, but strong and fast and flexible and fit. All of us able to out-run, out-ride, out-swim, out-lift, out everything except out-size-six her. She rolled her eyes and told me I sounded like a zealot (I poked out my tongue and said she started it, because I am such a successful adult.)
And now she is looking at possible surgery and a lifetime of medication and her doctor is saying 'You need to make significant lifestyle changes' and I don't work at the same publishing house anymore, so I can't go for a run or ride with her at lunch and she is younger than me. And if even a year ago she had said 'You know, I don't need to drive everywhere', it could probably have been avoided, given there was nothing congenitally wrong.
So if you have good basic mobility and no pressing health issues, see if you can run for a bus without losing your breath. Or walk briskly up a steep hill or a flight or two of steps. And if you find it hard, then just start to incorporate a bit more physical effort into your days. You'll feel better, you'll look better, you will physically be better and it's pretty damn good for your mental health, too. Because our bodies can turn on us enough without us encouraging them!
3. To end on a lighter note – most of you will be aware that I have a passion for cycling, which wages war with living in Sydney, one of the worst cities in the world to ride a bike in (though slightly better than it used to be). Riding my Lady Bike deals with some of my cycling needs, though she is big and heavy, so 10km is a long ride on her. My new pub bike is good for local jaunts, but far too crap for anything more, so there is a gap in my life where road riding used to be.
I have been filling this with spin classes of late, which are fun, and even have had to buy new cycling nix as those saddles are murder on one's nether regions. The instructors are hilarious, with one relaxed and encouraging, one spiritual and super-focused, and one ex-Olympian who basically treats us as though we are training at a velodrome, sometimes shouting incomprehensible instructions that I suspect were meant for a Kierin team. I love them all.
Olympian surpassed himself on Wednesday, he had a regimen that had us standing on the pedals at near-top gear for long stretches, interspersed with seated power climbs and continuous add-ons of gear until we literally maxed out. It was hard work. At the end of one track, we all took a bit of recovery time at lower gear, and as soon as he caught his breath and had a drink, he looked out at us and said, 'You're tired, yes? Heart pumping and breathing hard? Legs a bit jelly? That was eight minutes. Think about the riders in the Tour de France, they have to do that for hours on end, day after day. No wonder they're all juicing!'
2. Ladies, please take better care of your health! I've had another dear friend fall in a heap due to lack of focus on her body as a biological construct, and it's pissing me off as much as it's upsetting me.
As women, we seem encouraged to spend more time worrying about the aesthetics of our bodies than about their functionality. Which is bullshit. Fitness is so important, and it's just not emphasised (unlike diet and thinness, which is apparently the raison d'etre of women's existence), which is stupid, because exercise is the number one thing that you can do to improve your health right away and continuously thereafter. And you don't need to be putting in a massive effort, simple things like leaving the car at home and walking, taking the stairs rather than the lift or escalator, and getting off the bus a stop early all add up.
My friend is thin, and so has been telling herself she is fit. But when we recently ran for a bus, she could only manage about 10 steps and then I had to sprint ahead and hold it for her, convincing the driver to take pity on the middle-aged and out of shape through a combination of blarney and a shameless abuse of cleavage. When she got on the bus, she was puffing away, and I expressed concern at her lack of fitness.
She pointed out that my arse is three sizes larger than it was when we met, which is true – I started off with a teeny arse, but put on weight after I shattered my foot, and then more later on when the tendonitis got bad. Indeed, my arse has been even larger than it is at the moment. But I tensed my glutes, grabbed her hand, and demonstrated that most of that arse is muscle, which is why I can run fast despite buggered legs. I mentioned my friend Emma, who is a size 18 and runs marathons. And then there is that girl I don't know at the gym who is basically built like a brick shithouse, but strong and fast and flexible and fit. All of us able to out-run, out-ride, out-swim, out-lift, out everything except out-size-six her. She rolled her eyes and told me I sounded like a zealot (I poked out my tongue and said she started it, because I am such a successful adult.)
And now she is looking at possible surgery and a lifetime of medication and her doctor is saying 'You need to make significant lifestyle changes' and I don't work at the same publishing house anymore, so I can't go for a run or ride with her at lunch and she is younger than me. And if even a year ago she had said 'You know, I don't need to drive everywhere', it could probably have been avoided, given there was nothing congenitally wrong.
So if you have good basic mobility and no pressing health issues, see if you can run for a bus without losing your breath. Or walk briskly up a steep hill or a flight or two of steps. And if you find it hard, then just start to incorporate a bit more physical effort into your days. You'll feel better, you'll look better, you will physically be better and it's pretty damn good for your mental health, too. Because our bodies can turn on us enough without us encouraging them!
3. To end on a lighter note – most of you will be aware that I have a passion for cycling, which wages war with living in Sydney, one of the worst cities in the world to ride a bike in (though slightly better than it used to be). Riding my Lady Bike deals with some of my cycling needs, though she is big and heavy, so 10km is a long ride on her. My new pub bike is good for local jaunts, but far too crap for anything more, so there is a gap in my life where road riding used to be.
I have been filling this with spin classes of late, which are fun, and even have had to buy new cycling nix as those saddles are murder on one's nether regions. The instructors are hilarious, with one relaxed and encouraging, one spiritual and super-focused, and one ex-Olympian who basically treats us as though we are training at a velodrome, sometimes shouting incomprehensible instructions that I suspect were meant for a Kierin team. I love them all.
Olympian surpassed himself on Wednesday, he had a regimen that had us standing on the pedals at near-top gear for long stretches, interspersed with seated power climbs and continuous add-ons of gear until we literally maxed out. It was hard work. At the end of one track, we all took a bit of recovery time at lower gear, and as soon as he caught his breath and had a drink, he looked out at us and said, 'You're tired, yes? Heart pumping and breathing hard? Legs a bit jelly? That was eight minutes. Think about the riders in the Tour de France, they have to do that for hours on end, day after day. No wonder they're all juicing!'