a long, long overdue post...

well it's been 2 months since I last posted, due to a lack of internet access, and lack of things to post about due to the severe lack of exercise I've been doing (blamed upon the loss of my ipod charging cable - this may seem a piss poor excuse but quite frankly, running without music is next to impossible).


However the ipod is back up and running, so I guess I should be too. In fact, I have got a jog or two in this week - sleeping in and needing to walk to work in 10 minutes necessitated this.

So this is a quick post, just to let you know that the blog is still alive. I, however, might not be, the day after tomorrow as a friend and I have decided to summit Mt Ngahuahoe. Those familiar with this mountain (aka Lord of the Ring's Mount Doom) will appreciate that this climb involves a slight incline - or perhaps more accurately described as at least 3 hours of constant torturous ascent, hauling my overweight and unfit self up a 45 degree slope of loose scree.

I'll post an update afterwards if I survive.

On the money front, I finally started to put away a few pennies (namely by avoiding trips to my favourite irish bars). The savings account now holds $5000 and I have just under 6 months until I leave the country, so I'll be sticking to a budget tighter that a pair of jeans after christmas dinner to save the remaining 6 grand or more.

Check out the "hill" we're climbing on Wednesday - taken last summer when we missed this summit but did the Tongariro Crossing (the best tramp I have ever done! Highly recommended - though if anyone from those parts reads this; a cold beer or icecream would've gone down a treat at the end of the track).

playing tour guide - and who said running was boring?!

Well this afternoon's run started out like many others...I really couldn't be bothered with it at all. Indeed, a nap before hitting the pub sounded like a much better idea. However I tricked myself into it by bringing my running gear to work and slipped as inconspicuously into them as is possible when you're parked in the middle of a carpark on a Saturday afternoon.

Sneakers on, Queen blasting through the head phones, I set off at a snail-like jog towards the railway station. After a km I'd had enough. My legs hurt. There was a lot of traffic (forgot the semi-final was on at the stadium tonight) and the brazen sunlight did nothing to hide the bouncing up and down of my substantial muffin top. Running is so much easier in the dark. At least then, the few people out can barely make out your silhouette and you can't see your ultimate destination far far far away in the distance.

I made a deal with myself that if I could make it just to the railway station non-stop then I could walk the rest of the way AND still deserve the sassy red or 3 I'll be ordering at the pub tonight.
Made it to the railway station. Stitch. Traffic light is a welcome rest. Then I notice a man next to me also in running gear. However he's turning a map around every which way and looks more than slightly confused. And so I pull out my headphones and ask if he needs any help.

He's in town for only one night and wanting a break from the hop off, see the sight, hop back on, see another sight, drag that is tour bus travel and thus wanted to see a bit of the city while pounding the pavement. I recommended he run around the waterfront to oriental bay and maybe up Mt Victoria since the view's spectacular up there on a day like today. I then assured him that I'm an exceptionally slow jogger and to go on ahead. However 200m later I caught him up after he's stopped for photos and we carry on around the waterfront together.

What a fun way to run. You barely notice the pain while you're chatting away to a complete stranger about travel and pointing out to him all the sights. We happened to stumble across the Canterbury (new navy ship) berthed at Queen's Wharf which was truely awesome to see (I'm a bit of a military geek - and no, it's not JUST about the men in uniform). Turns out this guy was involved in the british military and it showed. Not a shabby runner. And it did me a world of good trying to keep up with him.

At Waitangi Park we shook hands, exhanged names and ran off on our separate ways.
Think the big guy upstairs may be sick of my moaning about muffin tops, beer guts and excuses not to run - gave me no excuses but to do a proper work out this evening - damn him cashing in on my unwavering abiltiy to adopt pommy waifs and strays, anywhere, anytime.

5km non-stop (entirely running) - for the first time ever!

I just ran, for the first time ever, 5 kilometres without stopping. Without walking. And without cursing and hating every moment of it.

This suprised me, as my life recently has been leaning more towards the sedentary side. The slothenly side. Or to put it bluntly - I've been pretty darn lazy lately.

So it amazes me that one tub of orange chocolate chip icecream, a good few packets of bikkies, much lying in bed watching outrageous fortune dvds, and the odd walk to/from work = being able to run further than I've ever run before. This is definately my kind of training!

It would have been so easy not to go for a run after work when you finish at 4.30am. I knew this, and so I packed my running gear; walked to work so I had no alternative transport home; didn't carry an eftpos card or money in any form thus eliminating any other means of getting home, besides on foot; and told everyone at work that I was indeed intending to run home, and hoped like hell they would hold me to it.

I got the stitch before I even finished by 3 minute or so warm up walk across the carpark. Oh f**k I said to myself - this doesn't bode well at all! So I cranked up Queen on the ipod and set off - there's something about that music that just lifts you up. Well that and the way it's easy to keep running when every second lyric is reminding you of your own fat bottom. And though Queen don't seem to mind a cushy rump, I'm not convinced all men feel the same.

I know they say that you shouldn't run with your ipod in - particularly on dark streets in the middle of the night when there aren't too many others about - but hey, it's not really a choice is it - likelyhood of being attacked (I hope) is rather slim versus the likelyhood of going crazy/giving up/hating every moment of the run if I don't have bohemian rhapsody to rhapsodise to is 100% likely. Not a tough choice. Plus the music distracts me from all the other noises you don't notice during the day. Like those flags they hang from street lamps to advertise things. Those things flapping in the wind sound exactly like footsteps pounding down the pavement behind you (in the wellington wind, obviously). And the street lights casting shadows in every which way has me puzzling, in a more than slightly anxious way, whether that third silhouette is just another of mine, or of some creepy stalker with less than honorable intentions. So music it was, and shall be!

I set the goal of running at least the first 2 km. And then I could walk the rest. Those 2 km came and went and I wasn't dead. So, a bit like forrest, but minus the excessive facial hair, I just kept on running. All the way to my door.

So proud. And tired. Time for bed!

Raiding the pantry

My, it has been an exceptionally long time between posts. I wish I could say it's because I've been so busy out running every evening, doing crunchies every spare moment I get etc etc, but sadly no. Mainly it's been because I've been rather lazy, and when I have exercised it's not been that exciting that I could write anything about it other than, "I went for a jog/walk/toddle down to the pub today, got soaked by the rain, blown over by the wind, and it was not fun at all!".

Switching back and forward to night shifts hasn't helped much either - walked the 5km home in the rain at 4am once and got so many sermons about the dangers of this blah blah blah by some old codgers at work, that I decided it was for the greater good that I don't give them a coronary by letting them see me do this again...no...this week I'll sneak off home and NOT wear my fluorescent orange vest - in the interest of avoiding safety lectures, though possibly not the trucks that tear out of the port in the wee hours of the morning.

Things are going much better on the budget front. I've finished my christmas shopping already (new record, even for me!) and just have to post off a parcel to the motherland that will probably cost me more than all the other presents put together!

Also trying to save some money on groceries this month and while I'm at it, eat most of the contents of my pantry to save carting it to the new flat when I move (I'm lazy like that). So I did a bit of a stocktake of the cupboard, which suprisingly is nowhere near as bare as I remembered it being, and so with a bit of thought and a quick stop at the supermarket, should yield some much more exciting recipes than the cottage cheese and potato mash, potato wedges and french toast I've managed to rustle up in the last 2 days...

So on the menu this week we have...drum roll...

Humble pie (think cottage pie but with lentils and no meat)
Chickpeas cooked in tomato and coconut sauce
Carrot and coriander soup with croutons or garlic bread
and anzac bikkies (because I can)

And I need to buy only 6 things from the supermarket to make all that this week! Well 5 actually; the milk is just for tea - which I just cannot live without.

What I would do without my subscription to Healthy Food Guide, I have no idea!

Pretty boring post, sorry. But off to chop off my hair tomorrow, and if the weather's better, then a walk around the coast to follow...so something interesting may very well happen

Brrr. Not so fun, running in this weather!

Yesterday was so sunny here in Wellington. I pretended summer had arrived already and donned a pretty floral dress and jandals - pretty much the only two items of clothing needed in the summer (oh, and a polarfleece of course; this is wellington!).

Today, however, was another story altogether.

I'd been doing a bit of trip research and discovered a whole heap more things that I want to do while in South America. One being taking surf lessons in Northern Peru, because, hey, why not?! I've always wanted to learn and the water there midwinter is bound to be warmer than Lyall Bay on the hottest summer day. Plus it's a lot cheaper! I've seen people surf though, and it looks like a LOT of hard work! All that paddling can't be easy. And so this gave me the motivation to get out there in this horrid weather and do some exercise, despite the mangled, blistered state of my feet after walking to and from work a few times.

It was drizzling outside and oh so cold. Now I'm back and have checked the news online, I find out it's snowing on the hills around Wellington and about 6.5 degrees outside and steadily dropping.

I pulled on one of those mac in a pacs - you know the dirt cheap, rolls up into it's own pocket, warehouse kind that anyone that gives a hoot about fashion would never wear, even with a gun pressed to their head. Well, I own one of those (let's keep that quiet - it's only for use in emergencies - like when it's raining and you're crazy enough to go for a run). So I put that on, a merino t-shirt, tights and sneakers and hit the pavement. Two minutes into my warm up walk, I was freezing. Not just feeling a little cold, but freezing in a teeth chattering, hands turning impressive shades of blue and orange, kind of freezing. So I picked up the pace and ran almost all the way to the St Geralds monastery. I say almost all the way as just before the monastery there's a very scary looking hill, and I had a painful stitch. It probably wasn't the best idea to attempt a run having just devoured over half a packet of hobnobs (though they were the oaty, wholemeal kind, which can't be all that bad for you, can they?) and a substantial amount of tea during the afternoon.

Then I had to walk down the pedestrian accessway. I would have run it if I could've, but very steep stairs plus rain and jelly legs doesn't make for a very promising outcome.

As an aside, I find it very helpful to never double knot your shoelaces. Random, I know. But very convenient when you tell yourself you are going to run to such and such a landmark without stopping, and then don't feel bad when you have to stop for at least 3 very quick shoe-tying breaks on the way - not time enough to feel guilty, but enough to catch your breath.

I then ran back along Oriental Parade. This is such a lovely spot for a run but I normally avoid it like you would a face-masked, swine fluey leper in the chemist. The reason for this is it seems half of Wellington uses Oriental Parade for their runs. The fit, lean, beautiful half of Wellington, that is. I feel more comfortable lumbering around Karori Park with the chubby, puffing mums.

Today I was the only person running along here, however. Which says a lot about the weather, and doesn't insinuate great things about my state of mind. The other great thing about Oriental Bay is the public loos. Especially if you're like me and suffer from a nose that runs faster than I could ever dream of, while jogging, and yet, without fail, always forget to take tissues. The not-so-great thing about these loos is they feature full lenth wall mirrors. Not something you want to stumble across while on a run as you get to see yourself in all your red, sweaty glory.

By this stage I was sweltering (and yet with purple, frosty fingers) in my rainjacket. So to hell with my fellow citizens. I was going to to take it off and run past the supermarket and down Cambridge Terrace in my tights and a not nearly long enough t-shirt, and hope like hell the camel toe would behave itself and I wouldn't see anyone I knew.

I got home alright, and no horns were tooted at me and so I think I pulled that one off.
Thank god for that!

Swimming

Yesterday I found myself at the pool. I haven't swam for quite a long time so I was expecting to lumber up the lane once or twice, spluttering, before admitting defeat. Not so. I actually managed 30 lengths, practically without stopping (as much as is possible when you are sharing a lane with 15 others, some of whom are too slow even for the slow lane), though it was all breaststroke. We'll save freestyle for another day when I'm more in the mood for self-flagellation.

I remembered that I actually enjoy swimming. I love that there is a form of exercise where you can raise your heart rate, but avoid the red-faced, sweaty mess that comes with jogging.

The pools are also one of the places where you don't have to give a stuff what your body looks like. Togs flatter barely anybody; and goggles, noone at all. The lean, fit swimmers are hidden away across the other side of the pool, where us amateurs can pretend they don't exist. Plus (and I feel bad saying this) there's always someone fatter there than you, to make you feel better about yourself.

The one gripe I have about public pools, is about the changing rooms. It seems the one place where it is socially acceptable to parade around naked, is here. I'm no prude, but I am one to discreetly change in the corner, or in a cubicle if there is one. Mainly because I'd rather not accidently get a glimpse of some old biddy's greying pubic hair, or be hit by a stray breast as the women next to me gets overly enthusiastic about her conversation. Maybe I am just a prude. There is definately something awkward about public changing rooms, anyhow.

The reason for taking up swimming again is to train for the Wellington Harbour swim that takes place in January 2010. I meant to enter last year, but not a soul could be convinced to train with me, and it was too scary an undertaking to do alone. However this time I've agreed to enter with somebody, and I'm pretty sure they're going to hold me to that, and so the training begins.

Training for both this, and the 10km run, isn't entirely as crazy as I first thought - I've since mulled it over, over numerous mugs of PG tips (the budget has cut out the wine), and decided that the two should complement each other quite well. Besides the ocean swim is only 750m - though that is 750m in the Wellington Harbour, which even in the middle of summer, isn't the warmest of places. But the fact that anyone that takes is still swimming it after 30 minutes, will be unceremoniously pulled from the water by lifeguards and taken back to shore, is pretty big motivation to put in some laps now, to avoid mortification later.

I still can't work out whether my aching thighs have been caused by the swim and using muscles that I didn't know existed, or by today's walk/jog that probably also involved muscles that have layen dormant for quite some time. Speaking of which I added some pretty steep hills (up the side of Mt Vic) to the walk - and planned on 4 songs walking, 2 of jogging, but added an extra song of jogging after I'd warmed up and my body didn't want to stop. Funny things. Bodies. Takes a good 15 minutes to quell its protests, before it actually decides to work, and by then the work out is about to finish.

Dollars and sense

Weight = 67kg
Savings = $1000 (plus $2000 of debt paid off)

Well in the last week or so I've been pretty (or extremely) slack on the exercise front. Though a whole lot better at sticking to my budget - which I think evens things out as it's hard to give all aspects of your life an overhaul and not let some things slide.

I had a date on Friday night. With my television. It's a much cheaper alternative to hitting the clubs like a normal twenty-something, and slightly less nannerish than clicking away with some knitting needles (though that is becoming more and more likely as this nanadom continues). Anyway I watched Intrepid Journeys as they were visiting South America this week. And oh my god - I am going to Brazil!!!! Originally Brazil wasn't on my hit list for a few reasons - it seeming a less safe destination for a single gal travelling alone, the fact I don't speak any portuguese whatsoever, and it's one of the more expensive destinations in the region. But after seeing it on the TV I've decided to pull out all stops so I can end my South American adventure with some R and R on the beach, sipping a Brazilian cocktail and if I can summon the energy, sliding down some waterfalls on my bum (that's right!).

Which leads me to some things that I've found helpful in sticking to my budget.

I have a goal and I've told absolutely everyone I know about it. I've said, 5 months in South America. I did some research and worked out that return flights there, vaccinations, insurance and money to live off and travel for 5 months, means I need a minimum of 8 grand kiwi. Ouch! Preferably more, but this is the absolute minimum I need to ensure I don't end up living off raw potatoes and hijacking a llama to ride home on. I'm aiming for 10 grand which will hopefully cover hot showers, the occasional bottle of malbec, and being able to afford to mountain bike down the most dangerous road in the world and pay for the priviledge of swimming in parana-infested waters - all things you can survive without, but with them, the trip will be that much more fun! Plus I can imagine I won't be doing any swimming with paranas without the bottle of malbec to calm my nerves first!

Tell everyone you know about your goal. This ensures you can't weasel your way out without looking exceptionally silly. I'm also going to purchase my tickets 5 months 0ut (timed for the new year sales and thus saving money!), and possibly making them non-refundable - then you're going no matter what!

I've changed my whole mindset about money. Whereas before having thai takeout once a week wasn't a big deal - now it means 1 night in a hostel in Peru. Cooking at home means over 6 months I've saved enough for 24 nights accommodation, just like that. Likewise, for the cost of a pint, I could eat for a day (or maybe 2) in Bolivia. And a new dress could buy a day's skiing in the Andes. I would hate to get half way around the world and miss out on some amazing activity because I bought a few too many rounds for my mates in the pub.

I also find it much easier to stick to a budget when you use cash. Eftpos cards are a very dangerous, if handy, invention. A swipe here and a swipe there and before you know it your monthly statement arrives, 3 pages long, and you wonder just how you managed to clock up that much money just on choccy bars at the servo.

So this week I withdrew $60. This has to cover petrol, groceries and all things fun. Luckily I have a job where lunch is provided. Tucking into all the fruit, yoghurt, and salad there cuts huge amounts off the food bill. Sleeping in on your days off also means you can get away with 2 meals a day. And the rest of the time, you can fill up on tea. Cheap, tasty and filling. Can't be bad for the figure either.

Living in Wellington means having fun on a budget isn't hard at all. I'm still as much of a tourist as those camera-toting, fanny pack-wielding, zip-off khaki trousers-wearing yanks - but with slightly better fashion sense. There is so much to do in this city without paying a cent (or for a few bucks) - Te Papa, other museums, the Weta Cave, heaps of tramps and short walks, watching parliament live, the botanic gardens or simply strolling around the waterfront. A shift or two at the movies once every few months equals free movie passes, and staff discounts on the popcorn.

I've got 8 dollars left to last the next couple of days. I'm off to the pool. That's 5 bucks gone right there but come summer swimming is 100 percent free! With Oriental Bay only a 10 minute walk away.

Pubs also mean a night out watching rugby only costs the price of a beer - if you can limit yourself to just one (the occassional pint of Sassy Red, really is a must). Being as tight-fisted as a Scot doesn't mean an end to having fun. I plan to coerce friends into having a lot more boardgame nights - charades anyone?!

Righto, time to sum up and head off to the pool for my first swim in a long long while. After a glass of wine I agreed to do the Harbour swim in January (but more on that later) - thus training must be done. Followed by a quick jog before Shortland St starts. My muscles are protesting more vigorously than a shoe-throwing Iraqi, already!

a post, as promised...

Well it had been commented on by possibly my one reader (thanks mum!) that it was been a a long while between posts. 10 days to be exact. This may be because during those ten days I've been exceptionally slack at sticking to the exercise and may have indulged in assorted junk (read: KFC, memphis meltdown, chocolate, booze and more chocolate) on more than one occasion.
Then I woke up this morning, realised it was 10 months exactly until I shall set foot on South American soil, bang on 3 months until I turn another year older, and just under 7 months til I tackle this godforsaken run in Wanaka. So plenty of wake up calls to start my day with.
And so today I spent a lot of time putting off the inevitable exercise by tackling all sorts of household chores that appear that much more exciting/important when I'm trying my best to procrastinate from huffing and puffing around the block.
But with under 90 minutes until I was supposed to be at work I finally set off. The 3 songs of walking were great. The sun was shining, no wind and I ambled up the hill and through the trees. Always when it's time to start running I find myself at the bottom of a steep ascent. I'm starting to think that I really didn't do something nice in a past life. Nethertheless, up the hill I ran, or slowly and very painfully moved forward at a pace possibly slower than a walk, all the while trying to find the air to curse myself for being out running when I could be at the pub watching my rugby team kick some Counties arse. I got nearly to the top before my legs gave out and so I began the ungainly exercise of jogging down the steep path without twisting an ankle or faceplanting into a pile of dog s**t.
Running is definately not a pleasant or attractive pastime. I'm not sure if everyone suffers this but every time I jog, I suffer a really runny nose. And of course I never remember to bring tissues. This leads to a subtle (in case someone sees) wiping of one's nose onto one's sleeve - not an easy feat to do while running, and while wearing a short-sleeved top.
I've decided I'm likely allergic to exercise too after suffering severe cramping, nausea and dizziness on the five minute walk home, rushing into the house to grab the nearest bucket, and having to call in sick to work. Though this possibly could have been caused from using slightly expired milk and mushrooms to create a pasta masterpiece for lunch. Either way, I'd better schedule the exercise slightly earlier and eat something less adventurous tomorrow, as I have a feeling I'll need to have all the sick days I can up my sleeve for post-wanaka-run recovery.

I was certain I had a run (or session of torture and complete humiliation) scheduled for today. Apparently not. However, I only worked this out after actually doing the exercise. So right now I'm feeling rather smug and angelic, and a heck of a lot less guilty for ending my run with a peanut slab at the local dairy.

The treats that seem necessary in order to get me out jogging don't bode well for the second goal of this blog - saving money. I could just buy a packet of fun-size chocolate bars and have one after each run. I could...however that would mean I'd have an entire bag of chocolate sitting inside my pantry (doesn't scream motivation when I could just as easily eat them without moving from the sofa, whilst avoiding the pain of moving underutilised limbs), and I've never been one to just eat one mouthful and put the rest back. Oh no no. They would be crying out at me to finish them all, such is my level of self-control.
Maybe I could make a star chart like the ones you had as kids for potty training or learning your timestables. Perhaps for every 3 runs I do I could have a chocolate bar; for every 7, a bottle of wine; and every 2o a dinner out with friends. It has potential.
What I'm hoping is that once habit kicks in, I won't need a delicious morsel of mouth-watering chocolate dangling in front of me, just so I complete a run. I'm hoping these much talked about endorphins kick in and I'll run because I enjoy it (ah, fantasies).

Motivating factors aside, I did complete my 4 songs of walking and 2 of running. And added in a few hills. Since I live a whole of 100m or less away from the town belt I made use of that, starting on Ellice St and heading down to the catholic monastery before heading back. The bonus is that you get some amazing views to take your mind off your jelly muscles and laboured breathing, and there are less people around up there to see the side show.

The selection of music to run to is very important. The Killers and MGMT seem to work best for me. Deciding to go with what works, I picked the music that I will get up and dance to on a night out, despite how tired/drunk/over it/wanting to go home I feel. And not just get up. I will hop off my bar stool with a squeal and drag the nearest non-stranger on to the dancefloor with me, for these songs, while loudly exclaiming how much I love them. And so...that has to rub off onto the jogging, doesn't it?

on the difficulties to finding appropriate running attire

Some people say that the hardest thing about exercise is finding the motivation to get out the door - once you're out there it's easy enough to put one foot in front of the other and get the training done.
I agree with this. It is hard work getting out that door. But even harder is deciding what to wear while exercising.
Tonight I finally did the training I've been putting off all weekend. It took three costume changes before I got out there though.
A running outfit firstly has to be comfortable. It also has to hide all your worst features and wobbly bits, both to save your dignity, and to cause the least amount of distress and emotional scarring to any unfortunate spectators. To make things harder, it also has to keep you warm in the Wellington winter.
And most importantly it cannot involve any camel toe whatsoever. Even inadvertent camel toe is never acceptable. I'm one of these people who will sit in my car at traffic lights openly mocking any woman power walking down the road with camel toe on display for all the world to see. So to avoid hypocrisy, I put a lot of thought into my running attire.
Finally I settled on a merino t-shirt for warmth, leggings to hide my knees, and and old grey sweater for more warmth (this is Wellington). The sweater isn't quite long enough though, so to guarantee the non-appearance of camel toe so have to pull the tights down quite low, which has the unfortunate result of letting the belly fat hang out a bit; but you can't win every battle.
Looking okay (I would never go so far to say good) while running is fairly important for me. Wellington isn't a large city, and Mt Victoria is even smaller. It seems I can never leave the house without bumping into someone I know. Except when I'm made up, with hair straightened and dressed nicely - I never bump into anyone on those days. Murphy's law perhaps?
Today, red-faced and a little sweaty, I bumped into an old classmate. I haven't seen her in over 4 years and didn't even know she lived down here. So of course I had to see her while out (attempting) jogging.
I was supposed to walk for 20 minutes and run for 5. I don't own a watch. I ran for the length of two Mgmt songs. This equates to about 8 minutes. It also got me as far as the pizza parlour. To coax myself outdoors I had bribed myself with a seafood pizza and tucked a 10 dollar bill into my bra.
(Speaking of which, a future post must be dedicated to the difficulties in jogging in an ill-fitting bra - and the difficulties of keeping the money in there without it falling out - I'm forever envious of my friends that seem to be able to tuck all manner of objects down their cleavage without any trouble!).
Some reward. It appears it's impossible to get a pizza for under 10 bucks or a seafood pizza at all from my local pizza shop. Shows how often I patronize the place. Garlic bread seemed a good replacement. And then I walked the 8 minutes home.
I figured I'd make up the rest of the walk, walking to and from the cinema tonight.
The dark clouds rolling in looked a little too ominous and the garlic bread really couldn't wait.

Mount Misti

Introducing El Misti - in under a year, all going well, I will post a picture of me at its summit.

She's a stunning 5,822 M (19,101 Ft). Just a walk in the park, really.

For perspective, Mt Cook, the heighest peak in NZ, stands at 3,754 metres (12,316 ft).

The day started with healthy intents...

Today, according to the bible (aforementioned training program), I was to walk for 20 minutes and run for 5. If a half hour dawdle around the supermarket counts, then I fulfilled that.
It doesn't count?! Damn. Well I'd better put on my sneakers and get out that door as soon as I finish work tomorrow morning. I think working night shift justifies stretching out a day to end when I finally hit the hay. So for me, technically Saturday doesn't end until lunchtime tomorrow and I can still be angelic and stick to the exercise schedule. It also is the perfect justification for having a glass of wine at 10am...
Today was grocery shopping day. I went to the supermarket with a list, and healthy intentions. This worked well (my trolley was loaded with salad ingredients, tuna, quinoa and raw nuts). That was until I hit that last aisle of the supermarket. You know, the one with all the sweets, bikkies, chocolate...and the dreaded in store specials. Those chocolate bars on sale for only 78c were sitting there just looking for a new home...so what else could I do? I made like Angelina Jolie and took one of every colour.
Ah well, better luck with the healthy thing next time.

Training program

I wouldn't have the foggiest of ideas of how to train for a 10km run.
Enter Kerre Woodham's book and the beginners training guide at the back.
Looks simple enough - it starts off easy with walking and then adding 5 minutes of running in each time for the first month or so. I don't want to shock my body into running too quickly - tends to lead to loss of motivation and ending up back on the couch where I started.

So my training for the next 6 weeks (will highlight when accomplished, so I can track how angelic/lazy I've been).

Week 1: 10-15th August
Tuesday - Walk 20min
Thursday - Walk 20min
Saturday - Walk 15, run 5 (made up for this with an extra week 2 session)

Week 2: 17 - 23rd August
Monday - Walk 20
Tuesday - Walk 20, run 5
Thursday - Walk 15, run 5
Saturday - Walk 15, run 5

Week 3: 24 - 30th August
Monday - Walk 5, run 5
Tuesday - Walk 15, run 10
Thursday - Walk 15, run 5
Saturday - Walk 15, run 5

Week 4: 31st August - 6th September
Monday - Walk 5, run 5
Tuesday - Walk 20, run 5
Thursday - Walk 15, run 5
Saturday - Walk 20, run 5

Week 5: 7 - 13th September
Monday - Walk 5, run 5
Tuesday - Walk 20, run 5
Wednesday - Walk 10, run 10
Friday - Walk 10, run 10
Saturday - Walk 15, run 10

Week 6: 14 - 20th September
Monday - run 10
Tuesday - Walk 20, run 10
Thursday - Walk 20, run 10
Saturday - Walk 20, run 10

Well that doesn't look too daunting, does it?

Link to Wanaka run

well that glass of wine was finished...the run never did eventuate. not all bad news on the training front. have been walking 10km per day this week - out of necessity, not because I enjoy a 5km trudge to work at midnight. If there's a glass half full part to my car breaking down, that is it.

Here's the link to the run I'm training for - the Southern Lakes Half Marathon and 10km - I'm doing the 10km obviously; and as always training will start properly tomorrow... and the countdown begins to d-day (27th march 2010).

http://www.highlandevents.co.nz/half-marathon-wanaka

The beginning

Weight: 68kg
Savings: less than $0

With vague ideas of getting fit before my South American gaunt, I picked up a copy of Kerre Woodham's book "From short fat chick to marathon runner". Make no mistake, I have absolutely no intentions of running a marathon. Being able to run around the block nonstop would be a more achievable undertaking. I probably should add here that I'm of the very unfit, larger than Bridget Jones, but without the incredible bosoms, variety of woman. However after reading this I felt inspired. I felt that if a woman in her 40s who's by no means an athlete, can run 42km, then I can surely run a measly 10km. And so with the help of google and more than a couple of wines, I let everyone I know, know that I'd be running a 10km race in Wanaka next March. Once I sobered up I thought better of this idea, but too late. Training will begin today. Just as soon as I finish my wine...