The World According To Me

Thursday night I got my brave on and accepted an invitation to have dinner with some people who I, for no particular reason, don't tend to socialise with very much any more. In the past few years I have drifted away from only hanging out with people I knew through work. I guess this partly results from living in this town for longer and finally meeting people who don't tend to discuss clients and case-law and the mood the Magistrate was in at Court that day, which can be nice. But it also helpful to have people with whom you can debrief a particularly shit work day, who understand what's going on in your work-world. In any event, I went and had dinner and drinks with these friends/acquaintances and it was really, very nice. I am further pleased to be reminded that I can go out and not get screamingly shickered and have a good time. I did know this, however recent form would suggest otherwise.

Friday I was hangover free. Hurrah! One housemate had left for Melbourne the eve before and the other was headed down to visit friends on Friday morning. I stood on the front porch in my pj's and waved as her car drove off, waited until the car was out of sight, then raced inside and turned the stereo up full bore (I had the J's on, they were playing the new Pendulum song - I'm not usually one for drum & bass but it was auspiciously perfect for my mood) and started doing a little happy dance/fit. Time to myself! Yay! I was going to do a sweet lot of fuck-all, all weekend. With no-one cramping my style! Yay! I do love my housemates, don't get me wrong, but almost 3 days of peace with no-one talking to me/changing channels every 6 seconds/messing up the kitchen - it was going to be sweet!


I kept dancing/fitting and moving from the loungeroom, to the kitchen to the bathroom, back to the loungeroom where the Pendulum track finished and Guts' "And The Living Is Easy" started. I luuurrrvve that song. I love that song and I had the house to myself and it was a long weekend and it was very much still the morning so I had a whole day ahead of me so what better reason that to whip one's top off and carry on dancing in pj pants and a sports bra? I can't think of any better reason. I danced into my bedroom whereby the funk almost immediately left me when I spied myself in the mirror. Ewwww.

Next stop - gym!

I have posted about how my recent non-smoking attempt has had me exercising a lot more than I had been (but then again, 1 is a lot more than 0, so perhaps not so impressive), mainly to provide a healthy distraction which doesn't involve me shovelling everything I can find into my mouth or emptying my already empty bank account. I have been doing a shit-load of walking and recently joined my housemate V at circuit classes. I find Circuit to be very cheesy, some nights it's more like a sheltered workshop than a gym class and V and I are pretty much the youngest participants, sometimes by about 20 years. However, there's no denying that it gets the heart going and leaves me a bit sweaty at the end which can only be a good thing. It is a great foray into cardio for me.

(As an aside, I was telling my other housemate, who is thin and sporty and has no problem catching her breath when exerting herself, how proud I was of myself going to Circuit. This is primarily because in my other gym-goin' times, I have always stuck to weights-focused or flexibility focused classes, like BodyPump or BodyBalance. This is because I already know I am strong and I know I am reasonably flexible and have the ability to go to those classes without failing miserably. I would never, ever have contemplated a Step class or something like that prior to now. Step is next on my hit-list).

Anyway, I rocked up to the gym and it was virtually empty. I guess that other people were doing more exciting things with their long weekend, like going away, or sleeping in. My gain. I did a warm-up on the bike, then the parts of the weights circuit that I could remember from the last time I did weights (circa. 1879 judging by how my body reacted) which took about 25mins then I eyed off each of the pieces of cardio equipment to size up which one would cause me the least amount of sorrow. Saddled up on the recumbant bike, turned my mp3 player up to "deaf by 30" and cracked hardy. In the old days of gymming (06? 05 even?) I would set the bike to a Hill or Interval program and a reasonably difficult intensity setting, then as soon as the first 'hill' hit my quads would scream and I would start to get puffed so would crank it down again and pootle away for the remainder of the 20 minutes being a wee bit disappointed with myself. But that was the Old Kymmy With No Lung Capacity Or Real Tenacity (dudes that so rhymes). This time I put it on the Interval program, set the intensity to 10 (out of 20, don't get excited) and did the whole thing maintaining an RPM of 80 - Hurrah!! When I finished I was puffing, but it wasn't the beyond-the-point-of no-return kind of breathless so I soldiered on to my old nemesis the treadmill. To cut a long story short I got a bit excited a did some running. Not for long mind you, only 2 minutes and then 2 1/2 minutes and then 2 minutes again, within the 20 minutes that the treadmill is set for. But I actually ran/jogged/shuffled! I was and am so pleased. When I had done the requisite stretching (which I never usually do unless it's incorporated into a class), walked out to my car and caught sight of my face in the rearview mirror I was so red I would not have looked out of place in a giant tin of beetroot.

The rest of the weekend was spent in a beautifully lazy fashion, aside from one time on Saturday afternoon when I blew the cobwebs off the treadmill I have at home and did a whole hour of it including more running (!) and using the dreaded incline function. Again, tomato face afterwards but I did not feel like I was going to die and this is the important difference between now and the old pretendy fitness days when I was too scared to try very hard.

I also cooked and ate and watched some tele and Facebooked and read blogs and did housework and purchased Jiff (how have I lived before knowing the wonder of Jiff?!) and sorted through old clothes and made an impressive donation of same to St Vinnies. There are many more clothes to sort through but I need to do these things gradually. Also I definiteatly have to start on which shoes I am going to throw away/give to St Vinnies but to be truthful, this particular task fills me with dread. I truly love all of my shoes, even those that I had forgotten I owned and/or those I have never worn. Truly.

All in all I feel really motivated and excited and positive which is more than I can say of the last year or so, for the most part.

The only bugbear is that since the connection of the nets at home I have severely neglected my reading and this annoys me greatly. From my current vantage point (propped up in bed) I can see the following which require my attention;