Uh Oh

Look what came in the mail today.

I can't believe I've actually signed up for my first ever organized run. And, what's more, committed to doing a distance I've never even managed to do to date - 10 kilometers. I haven't even been running that regularly or properly these days! Just doing 5k has been an absolute struggle. What if I come in dead last in a field of 1000 plus?

Maybe I've bitten off more than I could chew. Maybe I should chuck the number in the bin and just forget about the whole thing.

On the other hand, who the heck will care if I come in dead last? Even then, it's already pretty amazing if I finish it at all whether at a walk or a run - considering where I was (both in my life and fitness-wise) exactly this time last year.

Backing out would be an insult to the person I've grown up to be this past year. And wasn't it just last year, when I was preparing to come over, that I also felt like I'd bitten off more than I could chew?

So, yeah, I guess I am going to be keeping my number - and pinning it to my singlet next Sunday when I do the run. I may be the slowest one there that day, but by hook or by crook, I am going to make it across that finish line... just to prove to myself that I actually can.

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Regression

I recently realized that one of the main reasons I love doing Body Balance and yoga so much is because I get to spend so much time upside down. And part of what makes it so much fun is getting to bend and twist myself into the oddest poses that would normally be socially unacceptable for any self-respecting adult to do in public.

It's as good as being a kid all over again.

Don't get me wrong I was never one of those kids who did cartwheels and other gymnastic feats with ease - things that must be taught when you're still young enough to know no fear. Even then, the only place I could do a handstand would be in a swimming pool. And I could never flip myself upside down and back on the monkey bars to save my life.

But I always used to enjoy folding over and touching my toes, let my head hang straight down between my legs, and look at the world from a completely different perspective. I also used to like raising both legs straight up or cross-legged against a wall while lying on my back and pretending I was sitting on the wall sideways. And I always liked lying on the floor and scissoring my legs into the oddest angles, toes pointed like some demented ballerina's.

All of the above I get to do in class - and more! No wonder I find it so much fun.

Serious practitioners may find what I am saying a little irreverent - maybe even sacreligious. Don't get me wrong - the poses are hard work and more difficult than they seem. But being given the license to basically be a carefree child again, even for an hour a few times a week, is part of why it's such a stress-release for me, too.

I suppose the longer I do it, the more serious I'll be and stop doing yoga to relive the joy of being a hyperactive kid. But, knowing me? I seriously doubt that will ever happen.

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Somebody Stop Me!

photo by james m

I think it's pretty obvious by now - I'm a chockful of bad habits and addictions. Ranging from the trivial (i.e. nail biting and a love of diet soft drinks) to the life-altering (i.e. negative thinking and frequent self-flagellation), I am often conquered by these compulsions more often than I care to admit. And since I got my car, I'm coming to realize that I'm on my way to developing yet another one - as if I didn't have enough of them.

It's giving into the siren song of the fast food drive thru.

Yes, despite my resolve to turn over a new leaf and eat healthy to complement my new sporty lifestyle, my new wheels have made it even easier to indulge in my craving for the quick, tasty, and greasy joy of eating fast food. I don't even want to count the number of times I've driven the five minutes down the road for a burger from McDonald's (which is open 24 hours, much to my conscience's dismay), hot-and-spicy chicken from KFC, or a chicken roll from Red Rooster.

My absolute lack of emotional quotient is appalling. What can I say? When I'm diving into hot food that I didn't have to cook myself, I temporarily lose my sanity. But it's hard to resist the call of a Big Mac at the end of a long, harrowing evening call when I can safely drive to the store in my car, pick up a burger, and be home just ten minutes than I planned to be.


Okay, okay - the yogurt and fruit for dinner daily was definitely much more positive than habitually committing this cardinal sin against healthy living. I'm going to have to double - even triple - my time at the gym just to make up for my lack of willpower... and we all know how realistic that really is!

The reason I'm writing about this here is just so people know about my budding addiction and hold me accountable. After having had a McDonald's burger two nights in a row via the Drive Thru (curse the 24 hour service - shouldn't everything be closed in Perth by 5pm?), I am willing to admit I have a problem.

Is there such a thing a Fast Food Addicts Anonymous? Sign me up, quick!

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Wheels

Ballerina on a Bike by humminggirl

Because I've been so wishy-washy about looking for a car, my friends have been at me to ride a bike as an alternative to all the walking I've been doing. (Perth, being the outdoor city that it is, has an amazing network of dedicated bike paths that can take anyone almost anywhere.) And since I've become fairly more fit since I got here, everyone believes I can probably handle a bike. After all, it's supposed to be a skill that you never forget once you learn it.

However, due to my inherent pessimism (and my kinesthetic stupidity), I wasn't about to buy into that last assumption blindly when I hadn't been on a bike for almost a decade. Besides, in all things there were exceptions, and I was pretty sure that the exception would be me.

For one thing, I wasn't one of those kids who grew up with a bike. My parents were on the verge of buying me one when I was around six, at the time still blissfully ignorant of the fact that their eldest child was athletically challenged. Just to see if I was ready for a bike of my own, they borrowed my next-door neighbor's bike with training wheels, put me on it - and I ended up tipping over and hitting my head on the gutter and getting knocked out. The details of that fateful afternoon are fairly sketchy to me for obvious reasons, but I do know it warranted an emergency room visit.

Needless to say, my parents never considered giving any of us bikes ever again.

After that debacle, the next time I even got near a bike was in high school. Learning to bike as an adolescent presented one major dilemma: the absence of training wheels. You just had to hop on a two-wheeler even if you didn't know squat about keeping it upright and pray you didn't tip over and get crushed under it. And we aren't even counting the humiliation factor in. Surprisingly, I did learn to bike eventually - in the parking lot of PICC on a rented BMX. And, by some miracle, managing to do so without any memorable or remarkable spills.

Me being me, I was completely charmed by the wind on my face as I rode, the relative speed of it, and being able to indulge my inner wanderlust. I was hooked, and even not having a bike of my own could stop me. Borrowing our neighbor's BMX bike, I used to tuck my hair into a cap, dress like a boy, and ride around our subdivision almost every afternoon. I even tried to move on to an adult bike - a mistake which I paid for with some considerable embarrassment when I rode into the neighborhood tennis wall because it was too high for me to stop with dignity. Despite this minor setback, I kept at it until the end of that summer - but had to give it up once school started once again. I only got to ride again a handful of times after that, when my cousins and I would hire bikes on weekend outings with the family. I'm fairly sure that I hadn't been on a bike since college, at the latest.

Hence my understandable reluctance to get on one again - let alone make it my primary mode of getting around.

Happily enough, I've just spent my afternoon proving myself wrong and the adage right.

There's a certain symmetry between past and present to have my very first bike ride in ten years on a friend's borrowed bike in an empty parking lot. With no training wheels, of course. Just armed with a helmet (required for riding anywhere in WA) and a prayer, I wobbled my way into the first round, completely forgot my brakes, and almost ended with a spill.

I may have looked like a crazy overgrown kid to all passers-by, going round and round the parking lot with no apparent purpose or destination in mind. But it was worth looking a fool to feel the speed of it again, with the wind on my face washing over my huge grin at knowing that I could still do it.

No, I'm not ready to get out on the bike paths just yet. Fingers crossed, a few more sessions in the parking lot ought to do it. But once I get the hang of things - I'll probably be on my way to owning my very first bicycle.

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Limbering Up

I've just come home from a session of Body Balance, the only fitness class at the gym I attend regularly, and am feeling so loose, strong, and limber.

Many of my friends, specially the ones who knew me in high school and before, often struggle to hide their surprise when I tell them that I dabble in something that involves having to twist and stretch and push your body into funny poses. Apart from my well-vaunted reputation for athletic stupidity, I guess it's a bit difficult to imagine someone as sturdy-looking as me can be flexible enough to do the poses.

I can't blame them for it - because none of them is probably more surprised about it than me.

I was first introduced to yoga while I was studying for our medical boards a few years ago. A few friends of mine and I were bunking in to review together during the last few weeks leading to the exam and looking for a means to diffuse the stress build up in our apartment. One of them had a friend who was a real yoga master (orange robes, flowing hair and all) who was willing to come to our little HQ once a week gratis to teach us. The rest of the week, we would all wake up really early and do the sequences together on our own until he taught us a new set. It was a strange experience at first, working through the menagerie of poses named after animals that constantly challenged my often uncooperative muscles, joints, and ligaments. But I was quickly won over.

The stretches were awesome and must be experienced to be fully understood. Imagine how good you feel after one really good stretch. Multiply that great feeling by the number of muscle groups used - and that will give you a rough idea how great your body feels after a yoga work out. And as a stress-buster, the relaxation that closes each session cannot be beaten. I'd always come out of a session relaxed and centered and feeling wonderful.

The most amazing thing about it, though, was how my impossibly inflexible body actually became more pliable with every session we did. So much so that I was actually able to do my first full bridge within weeks of starting (see picture above - yes, that girl in the ratty shirt and blue jogging pants is me).

I promised myself I'd continue doing it even after the boards were over, but Real Life, as always, interfered with my good intentions. I sporadically attended classes here and there over the years - which doesn't count for much, even if it's true that your body remembers.

Body Balance is not quite as intense as yoga, but it is yoga based. This is the first time I've actually been able to do it regularly. I've been going to class two to three times a week for about three months now, and I can really see the difference it's made in my posture and my flexibility. I'm far from being capable of twisting myself into a human pretzel, but I've definitely improved a lot from baseline. And, yes, I am actually doing those back bends again!

I'm thinking of trying out a real yoga class, to get a feel of what it's like and to see if it's something I want to pursue. If that doesn't pan out, I'm quite happy with Body Balance and I highly recommend it to anyone who's starting a fitness program. It may not burn as many calories as other cardio classes, but it's really great for the body.

Okay, I'm going to take advantage of this loose and limber feeling now, get a hot shower, change into my flannel jammies, and just melt into bed. Did I already mention how amazing the post-Body Balance work out haze feels? I admit it, I'm an addict.

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Taking It Outside

Clear blue skies. A cool spring breeze off the ocean. Pristine white sands. Turquoise water as far as the eye can see. A dedicated bike/pedestrian path along a low cliff overlooking it all.

For a dedicated beach lover and wanna-be-runner, there was probably no better setting for my very first outdoor run. At last.

Let me digress a bit just to give you a background about how I've finally gotten to this point - particularly because I almost didn't even allow myself to get this far.

If you guys remember, it was just a couple of weeks ago that I literally ran myself full tilt into knee trouble. Thankfully, one of the perks of working in a hospital is having physios on hand to evaluate me gratis, and after an impromptu consult, I was told what the problem was - I had almost-flat feet, with my left worse than my right. My nifty new shoes were probably not providing enough arch support for me, specially on the left. The fact that I was being TOO enthusiastic about things and escalating what I was doing almost every day without rest periods in between compounded the issue.

As a result, just a couple of weeks into my attempt at making my walking legs into running legs, I was getting symptoms of beginning runner's knee.

I was told in no uncertain terms to back off, at least until I was pain-free. I would have to go back to a lower degree of intensity in the program I was following and to take recovery days. I also had to get better arch support - or else.

Apparently, my spirit was willing, my heart and lungs were capable, but my ligaments and my feet were weak.

After being told off by the physios at work (you'd think I'd know these things being a doctor!), I had a good think about the whole running business. It was so frustrating to find out that I didn't seem to be biomechanically suited to the sport I'd chosen - after I'd already set goals for myself in it and convincing myself I could do it. Also there were, after all, a myriad other sports out there that were less impact on the knees and didn't require a person not to have flat feet - like biking and swimming - and I only had one pair of knees. I was seriously considering junking the idea altogether.

But after a few days of sulking and literally sleeping with an ice pack on my left knee, I figured I wouldn't be giving myself a fair chance if I gave up on it so quickly. So I went out and got a pair of off-the-shelf orthotics for my running shoes, (which initially felt like having golf balls under my arches but now feel great) and backed off on my treadmill work (which meant endless workouts on the mind-blowingly boring elliptical machine for several days in lieu) until I could squat without having my left knee scream at me.

In a week, I was doing the prescribed runs on my C25K program to the letter on the days I could run - and taking full recovery days in between. I worked my way up to a full 30 minute run on the treadmill a few days ago - a little more that what I should be doing in Week 6 - but pain-free during and after. So I am being cautiously optimistic that my shoe inserts and my easing up on myself are doing the trick - and that I just may be able to continue my pursuit of this running thing after all.

To celebrate my first ever 30 minute run, I felt ready to take things outside. Hence my impulse trip to Cottesloe Beach armed with only my jogging shoes, dorky belt-bag, and one application of sunblock. (And, while off-topic, can I say again how awesome it is that I can actually commute to a beautiful beach any time I feel the urge to?)

Okay, maybe all I could work up to today was about 30 minutes of run - and a whole lot of walk (at least 5K total, I promise). Give me some time, I'm going to work my way to a solid 5K run soon and take things from there.

Nothing can take away from the reality that I actually ran along the Sunset Coast jogging path, wind cool against my face, water on one side, and open road as far as the eye can see. And I really can't imagine a better setting to discover that I can actually do something that I'd never imagined I'd ever do than this.





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Confessions of an Unreformed Sweet Tooth

diagnosis: one of the best cheesecakes i have eaten. ever.
cheesecake shop's mississippi cheesecake.

Of course I knew I had low-fat yogurt in the fridge at home - I just bought them yesterday. Vanilla, cheesecake, and apple pie flavored yogurt, 8 tubs in all, each just 73 calories.

But there are just days when you can't settle for anything but the real deal.

Which was why I found myself at the nearest service station at 730pm (after getting there on foot, mind you), rummaging through the freezers and looking for the lowest calorie ice cream treat I could find. Did you know that most ice cream bars are AT LEAST a 180 calories? Frankly, I really never wanted to know - but, unfortunately, due to my diligent label checking, I now know.

Luckily, I did find something that suited - a small cup of classic vanilla ice cream, just 110 calories for a small sojourn in sweet tooth heaven. Just in time, too, because the people at the cash register were beginning to give me strange looks after seeing me hovering over all three of their freezers for almost 15 minutes before settling for my treat and paying for it.

What can I say? The spirit is willing, etcetera, etcetera. And when you live in the land of Cadbury chocolate and Tim Tam, it can be quite challenging for any forsworn sweet tooth to to stay on the side of low glycemic index eating.

As part of my personal health reform agenda, which I've embarked upon to avert certain disaster - specifically a date with probable early onset diabetes - I've been trying to wean myself away from unhealthy sweets and going for the more healthy substitutes. Which translates to stocking muesli bars for chocolate bars, fruits for lollies, and, yes, yogurt for ice cream.

While that has managed to work for me somewhat, it's hard not to give in to temptation every now and then. Not having the object of my addiction on hand may prevent me from indulging regularly, but when I'm craving for the real thing, going out of my way to get my fix is not going to be a problem.

I'm trying to practice the value of moderation in this particular area in my life - and buying into the joys of muesli, fruit, and yogurt more often when a craving hits. But I still allow myself one mini-sized chocolate bar every now and then, as well as real ice cream (gelato!) when I want a treat. And no matter what anyone says - I am never, ever going to be able to turn down a slice of cheesecake. Ever.

I am, and always will be, a sweet tooth. I consider it both a blessing and curse, but it will always be a fact of my life. Curse, because it can be so hard to resist indulging in my favorite things in the world and damning the health consequences. Blessing because it doesn't take a lot to make me happy - just a great dessert has the power to make my day.

And, really, in this complicated world of ours where there are just so many things that can get you down, don't you agree that it's sort of great to be able to experience joy from a simple sugar rush? Click here to read the rest of this post.

Pushing Beyond Creaky Knees

photo credit: unknown - if it was you, let me know :)

I've finally decided on my new outdoor sport for my first spring-summer season in Perth - running.

Okay, it's not a water sport. But it's fairly simple, no-frills, and it doesn't require the kinesthetic prowess of an Olympic athlete, just lots of discipline and persistence - things I sorely need to develop anyway. Plus, it complements my insatiable wanderlust and is a great way of burning calories and getting fit while going places.

So a couple of weeks ago, I bought my first pair of good running shoes as a part of my commitment to my initial goal of working up to a thirty minute run. Overwhelmed by enthusiasm and the novel experience of being able to even jog without experiencing excruciating shin pain - something that has always turned me off running in the past - I was literally up and running.

I've started with the Couch to 5K running program, an 8 week training program that builds you up gradually to doing solid 30 minute runs from being totally sedentary. I started on Week 3 using the health club treadmill, and I haven't looked back since. I'm currently on Week 5 Day 3, going on Week 6 - which means I've actually worked my way up to a solid 20 minute run with minimal walking breaks. All of this has been treadmill work because I haven't had time to research outdoor running routes and my current schedule doesn't allow me to do a lot of wandering at the moment, but once my schedule opens up, expect me to be out all the time.

On the downside of things, beginning such a high-impact sport has made my body go into serious protest. My knees, in particular, are on strike and officially hate me.

I now know what morning stiffness feels like. I can almost hear my knees screaming every time I stand up after sitting for so long. My ankles squeak occasionally in accompaniment. My shins organize episodic protests but not quite as frequently.

Okay, okay, I admit I've been a bit of a dunce and, due to my gym addiction problems, haven't really been taking enough recovery days in between increasing my running time. But I have been a good girl about the stretching post-runs and continuing my strength training. The moans-and-groans of my muscles could probably be just a normal reaction to finally being used after happily hibernating for so long.

My friends tell me I just have to be careful that I'm not overdoing things - which means taking more time to recover from my workouts, running or otherwise. (Which is why I am blogging instead of slaving away at the gym right now.) Going for recovery days is actually a challenge in itself, because just the thought, "Hey, I can do this!" actually spurs me on that much further, creaky joints be damned.

The experience has been awesome, and a fitting counterpoint to what this year and this move has been all about.

I can't wait for the day when I'm finally doing my thing along the Swan River foreshore or the Sunset Coast jogging path, wind cool against my face, water on one side, and open road as far as the eye can see.
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Channeling Sporty Spice

my battered 3 year old rubber shoes - whose soles have been recently glued back on as a stop-gap measure. I need new ones!

My relationship with fitness has always been erratic to say the least.

Maybe it was my debilitating self-consciousness and fear that I'd end up making my team lose the game (which happened enough times in my budding career as a PE dunce for my fear to have a basis), maybe it was just my general aversion to anything that would make me sweat, or maybe it was my resigned acceptance that I have always been and ever will be "nerd" with mental calisthenics as my forte. But having learned from my elementary physical education classes that I had the athletic ability of a plant, I've never been particularly enthusiastic about any sport I actually had to participate in.

Of course as I grew up, my teenage vanity and my parents' constant prodding made it imperative I get off my butt and get fit. Exercise became a means to an end - losing weight and looking great. Always existing in my life alongside the latest fad diet, exercising would get me results but I would feel absolutely miserable and tired all the time. I mean, who would be happy subsisting on only an apple for breakfast, an egg for lunch, and nothing for dinner for every day activities, not to mention adding an hour-long aerobic session daily on top of it?

Needless to say I wasn't able to sustain that particular diet and weight loss program for very long.

The funny thing about me is that when I am into the whole fitness thing, I am really into it. Seriously into it. I've been through a biking phase, walking phase, a tae-bo phase, a regular gym rat phase, even a very short yoga and swimming phase. (All nice, individual activities - I never got over the trauma of being the team goat.) But once I stopped, inertia would often hit - and it often took serious shake-ups to motivate me to get going again.

Apparently moving to another country falls under the category of a major shake-up - because for the nth time in my life, I am once more channeling Sporty Spice.

Getting back into the active swing of things began as something of a necessity. My lack of wheels initially forced me to walk anywhere and everywhere, and I rediscovered the benefits of having an endorphin high.

After a few weeks of maximizing my on-foot exploration, I realized I had enough time on my hands to make a serious bid for fitness once more - and signed up with a local health club. I do time on the elliptical, the treadmill, and the rowing machine, life weights, and attend the yoga classes. The endorphin high is amazing, and great antidote to on-the-job-stress and on-my-own loneliness. To mix it up, I've kept my fitness walking for weekends when I feel like wandering - and there are just so many beautiful spots here in Perth for walking or jogging that's just a train ride away.

I'm really buying into the sporty, outdoor lifestyle of Perth. I can't imagine feeling this enthusiastic about walking or running in Manila, that's for sure - I happen to have an aversion to inhaling gasoline fumes. I'm even thinking of getting my first grown up bike - never mind if I haven't gotten on one since college. And I am even flirting around with the possibility of training for a 10K run in April, something that I've never ever done before.

Every time I get started on a fitness craze, I always swear that I'm going to stick to it this time around. After all, being a doctor, you would think I'd know enough about the benefits of exercise to keep me motivated, specially given all my personal risk factors and the fact that I am not getting any younger. But I know from falling off the wagon so many times over the years just how hard it is to keep a fitness program up - often because life gets in the way and it just becomes less of a priority. But I am hoping that this is the time when the fitness crazy part of me really sticks for good.

I'm just glad that my schedule here allows me this great form of "me time" - and that Perth is just so conducive to a healthy, active lifestyle. I may have the athletic ability of a plant, but what I seriously lack in ability I make up for in enthusiasm. With the weather warming up, I am looking forward to more outdoor fitness activities in the spring sunshine.

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