I left my feet in San Fransisco....

Ok, maybe I'm being overdramatic. I've never been to San Fransisco. I did leave my feet somewhere today. Or at least I wish I had!

They're currently attached to the end of my legs giving me evils for the shocking shock-absorption of my year old hiking boots. Time for shoe shopping ;)

Today dawned all fresh and promising. I didn't know at that point I'd need to go shoe shopping.

Yesterday I realised that I have lost 2Ibs in weight, whoop. I've been training like a beast and We have also had record numbers of views for the past week. so today dawned a fresh and promising day indeed.

At 8:30am the dude with the loud voice and the friend in the snowstorm somewhere on the top of a mountain in Antartica was outside having another conversation.

I dispatched the husband to deal with it. Apparently he didn't trust me to settle it diplomatically. Bah. I'm diplomatic. Sometimes. When there's food involved. Kind of.

Then we went walking.

Forever.

Tash and Amber arrived at 11am, with two dogs in tow raring to go walk the day away.

Today was breaking the boots in day for them both. Tash called me yesterday asking what kind of boots should she buy. I told her that whatever felt comfortable was good, but the one thing she MUST do is buy a size bigger. Give your feet room to swell. Be kind to your feet.

She arrived with some lovely blue boots. In her normal size. Queue 1 hour into the walk and..."oh, my little toe is rubbing", 1.5 hours in "oh gosh, my little toe has gone numb", 2 hours in "ummm, my pinky toe is really getting squished badly", 3, 4 and 5 hours in "my feet hurt" and finally at 6 hours in "oh God, I think my toe is bleeding".

BUY BIGGER PEEPS. Your feet won't assume you're calling them fat. I promise. If they do, then they're just being paranoid.

Additionally, don't listen to the useless advice you get from guppies in unnamed shoe stores. Listen to me. I am usually right and I'm funnier.

So the walk took a total of 6.5 hours, I burned in total 2676 calories over the course of the day. We're getting much closer to our target time, which is brilliant.

The effects of the training are also visible. The team are functioning at a much higher level than before, people are fitter, faster and more able to deal with the challenge of walking for long distances. It bodes well I think, that this is the case!

For me the barrier comes at 15km in. Once you push through you feel like a boss. Tash's barrier came around 18k and Amber and Simon a little later at around 22k.

I prefer getting the psychological component out of the way asap. When I go running it's usually around 3 minutes in that I decide whether I can be bothered or not. For hiking apparently it's around 3 hours in...

It's not something my dog Woof has to contend with though. That dog is Duracell powered I swear.

Woof is a Jack Russel Terrier and is THE happiest dog in the world. She has boundless energy and enthusiasm and it's often hard to wear her out! She loves everything and everyone. Especially people who feed her.

Today she was extra proud of herself as she trotted on and passers-by stopped and cooed "oh aren't you a pretty thing then" at her. She knows exactly what they're saying and she plays for the audience.

Woof never appears to show signs of fatigue. I spent the entire 6.5 hours wishing I could be like her. She just trots on. I think she could trot forever. I asked Simon what he thought it would be like having legs as short as hers. He looked at me and replied "well you should know". How rude. My legs reach the ground - surely that's enough to ask for!

Anyway, Woof and Tia had a whale of a time. Dogs have an amazing super-power. They can find dirty, muddy water anywhere in the nearby vicinity. Of course then they have to wade through it, drink some and splash it all over everyone when they get out.

The team also seemed to enjoy the walk. Up until the forest of small, highly irritating and biting insects that we passed through. The damn things only came for me and Amber. We must just smell nicer than the other two...

I am now going to take my nice smelling self and eat. Copiously. Without standing up. I think I might have to lasso the cat and throw bits of chicken at the target areas. Or get one of those extendable arm things. Oh. Or I could use the spike on the bottom of my walking poles....

Keep clicking peeps and enjoy your Sunday evening :)

I ran today.

I ran 5km.

I ran at 10kph.

All of these things seem incidental don't they. You're probably wondering what I'm on about. Maybe you think I've finally had too much sun to the head? (and that really is quite possible).

Ok, well.

What if I told you that 2 years ago I couldn't run for 60 seconds?

What if I told you that up until 6 months ago I "couldn't" push past 6kph?

What if I told you that 3 years ago I had holed myself up in my house and didn't leave it for 6 months? That I despised my 200Ib (14st3Ib.) 5'5" body and wished that I'd never been given the privilege of life.

What's my point? Sometimes it's easy to look at what you have an forget what you had.

Yeah, I know, I'm a laugh a minute tonight right. But I've promised you a story and I'll give you it.

I realised today that very few people know the journey that this body has been through. My pals at MFP met me when I was a *reasonable* 172Ib (12st2Ibs) and in recovery from a very serious bout of depressive disorder. You can see some of it in previous blog posts (specifically the c25K series) but I've never really told it all.

Why am I telling you this? Why would I want to admit it?

Firstly, I don't see the shame in discussing these things. A colleague a little while ago looked shocked that I discussed my period of deep depression with my students and inferred that it was unprofessional. Being that I teach Psychology I feel that it's extremely professional. We're all quick to make judgements. When I talk to my students of my past they're always shocked. You were fat? You were depressed? No. You're not that now though!

No, I'm not. I'm also proof that you can recover. I'm proof that you can't judge a book by its cover and I'm proof that what doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

I see so many people who are truely inspirational - people who have overcome huge physical barriers to get to an elite level of physical fitness. People who are working hard to get there.

I saw a lady at the gym the other day, she was very overweight. She was sweating and puffing on the treadmill one up from me. She looked uncomfortable and refused to look up. Like she was ashamed of herself.

What she doesn't realise is that if she keeps going, if she keeps trying eventually she'll be looking at the overweight person next to her and silently egging them on wondering why they look ashamed of themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I do NOT look like a runner. I go purple for a start. I wheeze. I often trip over my own feet and I definitely am NOT graceful (I think you all know that :p). But I keep at it. And slowly, but surely I've improved.

10kph! Who'd have thunk it ;)

What made me think of this?

My sister. She told me a little while ago that she couldn't lose weight, that she didn't believe that she would be successful when we started training. She told me that I'm an inspiration to her.

The transformation is like watching a butterfly unfolding its wings for that first time. Little by little she is gaining confidence, she's losing that weight and she is getting stronger and she has started believing in HERSELF.

Two weeks ago she thought that she couldn't walk 30k. She got to 20k and thought that it was over; by pure strength of will she pushed forwards. It bought it all flooding back. The feeling of my thighs chaffing when I started running (and those god-awful basketball shorts that would ride up!). The feeling of an imminent panic attack. The feeling of shame when someone looked at my HUGE body trying to make the lap around the local playing field.

The feeling of pride when someone stopped me and told me that they thought I was amazing. The feeling of self-worth when I realised my body was becoming stronger and it was me who was making those changes. The feeling of invincibility when I realised I could train my body to do what I WANTED it to do.

The point of what I'm saying here? Never NEVER give up. Success is so much closer than you could ever imagine it to be! Don't ever say you "can't". You just mean that you won't and there IS a difference.

Who am I to be an inspiration? I'm just a girl who did.

It's Friday.

It's Friday.

Oh wow, I made it to Friday!

It's the sort of day where you really don't know which day of the week you're at....it could have been Monday for all I knew, although, that would have been sort of depressing as things go.

One thing I realised today is that our flats have three too many steps up to the first floor. Yeah, three. I mean, surely they could have done without those three right? Hauling my arse up those final three after swimming the day after legs day is like my Everest. Forgot hiking 100km in 30 hours. Those three steps will be what makes me keel over.

You know you did a good job the day before when you're loading up the washing machine and it hurts. What's even worse is when you drop something and have to bend over to the floor to pick it up. The cat watched me with interest as I made very slow progress towards the floor to pick up a pair of pants and that one renegade sock.

Talking of the cat. That cat. I got home today at around 4pm. The cat was asleep. At precisely 4:02pm Dave starts licking a bag. I remove the offending object and go back to lugging the washing around the flat to the machine. At 4:04pm he's got another bag. A bigger one. A louder one. I ignore him, but eventually it becomes too much and the second bag gets confiscated. Thus follows a trail of energetic bag licking that takes me all around the house as Dave methodically works his way through every plastic bag that has wound it's way out of the plastic bag drawer (you know the one. It is always full and always messy). It's like he's a mind game master. Silly me. Of course he is - he's feline!

Anyway peeps, going to be a short one tonight all, I've had an evening of EXCITEMENT!! I finally took the step of buying my own domain name and hosting! Eeeek, we're now officially trailsandtribulations.co.uk!!

I hope my US buddies will continue to visit us - we love y'all :)

Google Ad Sense notice - thanks everyone who has been clicking through, you're awesome and I'm sending you magical hugs through the airwaves :) Please do continue checking out the ads - also if you fancy anything from those Amazon ads we are now officially an Amazon Affiliate :D Get me :)

Remember all of the monetisation of this site goes straight to charity - at the moment that happens to be Oxfam :D

Tweet from Oxfam today:

Loving it - thanks Sabina :D

Keep clicking my party peoples :)

./wave

Yeah ok, so they're extreme stereotypes, but even if you don't fit them I'll bet you've seen someone who does....

A little lighthearted look at what it'd be like on the flipside xD

Great job guys - original video found here: http://greatist.com/fitness/men-women-switched-roles-gym-video

It all started with a smoker.

There are just some days where you need to resign yourself to being the butt of a cosmic joke.

Today was one of them.

I live in a first floor flat at the front of the building. Underneath my bedroom window all of the smokers of the complex seem to gather together to talk, smoke and do whatever it is that groups of smokers do with their time.

It seems that these people think that there is some sort of magical barrier that prevents the smoke coming through the window and the sound of their often loud conversations from getting through to us in the room above them. A magic-muffler, if you like.

Sadly, we're not that advanced in our flat. We just get the smell and the sound of their conversations.

Now, at 11pm it's not too bad. It's generally cold so people don't linger TOO long. Most people are sensible enough to realise that doing what they do in the mornings is frowned upon; but today we had that one rebel of the pack. He needed to have a ONE SIDED conversation with someone on a phone at the top of his voice at pre-7am. I could even hear the person on the other end of the phone, so presumably they were in the middle of a gale-force 10 wind in the middle of a blizzard at the top of a mountain where the signal was limited. I can't actually imagine any other reason that they'd need to speak to each other at such a volume.

After listening to the conversation long enough to know that they had a painting job in London and they weren't sure whether the client was going to pay and gritting my teeth at this faceless individual for disturbing my lie-in, I rolled out of bed (and in the interests of preserving neighbourly communications) I did NOT call what I wanted to out of the window, being stopped by my dear hubs with a "he's a nice guy....really" I stumbled into the shower and then had my morning protein shake.

Today was sports day.

./sigh.


I should have been excited, but to be honest I wasn't. I dressed as per gym clothes (because sports day was being held at the leisure centre my gym is in I could go to the gym after work, whoop), took a change of "normal clothes" incase I'd got the day wrong I set off on my merry way, enjoying the sun.

I should have known something was up by the quiet streets as I walked. I probably should have guessed when I saw children who looked suspiciously familiar pass me in the opposite direction and I definitely should have known when I stopped two 6th formers who told me they were told to meet at the leisure centre. That was a dead give away. In typical fashion though I continued on my walk to school, where the car park was nearly empty, only to be greeted with a "Oh, you're meant to be at the leisure centre now". Crap.

Bearing in mind that the school and the leisure centre are fairly equidistant from my house at around a miles distance, it wasn't too bad. The catch is that the leisure centre and school are in opposite directions. Oh dear.

So, 3 miles into my morning I arrived at the leisure centre covered in sweat in time to find that I didn't actually have a form group to register until 9:15 ./sigh.

That done I found myself a corner and stayed there. Allll day. I'm not sure what I was meant to be doing. It was something to do with jumping....but since no one shouted at me I stayed put, acting as a bouncer on the door. They got the muscle taking care of the job ;)

I had some great conversations and decided to look into my dream of being a personal trainer (that has GOT to count as my something new!!). Thanks Kerrie-Anne xD

My Thursday continued in a fairly similar vein. I managed to spill my drink down my front so I looked like I wet myself. I dropped egg-mayo on my black shorts. The usual butt-of-the-cosmos jokes.

My planned training session with the team was dashed before I got hopes up of it happening. Woof was even going to come.

Still, what happened after that actually was immense.

Today was legs day.

And I forgot everything that had happened. I worked so hard my knees were sweating. Hell, I worked so hard my butt gave off the bat-signal.

You know the workouts where you start shaking even before you finish your sets? This was it. I was on FIRE.

And I still am.

Remember peoples, GO HARD OR GO HOME.

So now I'm sitting down (and I won't be getting back up.....) to watch the football. I don't like watching England play, they always make me nervous. So I'm going to be jumpy as a cat near a plant sprayer this evening.

Watching them come out - does anyone actually know all of the words to our national anthem?

Anyway, I'd best go and watch our boys pass a ball between themselves for 90 minutes. Least we're in white. Shame it's not raining really.....


Laters peeps (maybe it'll start raining and we'll all get to enjoy the view....I mean, game) ;)

I love pole.

I realised what I had become earlier today when after about an hour of me talking non-stop about pole my sister looked about ready to throw herself under a car.

Before that, this afternoon in the office I showed everyone my photos of Marley, Gemini and Gold Rush, explaining in intricate detail what these moves required and how exciting the thrill of doing them was to anyone who would listen (thanks Nicky and Tafrina ;)). Luckily I share an office with a dancer and a runner. They understand.

This morning at the swimming pool (I actually mistyped that as pole....seriously) Tom and I discussed in-depth about how well we thought we'd done, the things we needed to work on and the bruises that were coming up.

Tom thought he'd broken his toe. I think I've pulled a muscle in my forearm. Both of our partners look at us with a sort of dismay - you know, the type where they know there's no use actually trying to dissuade you from your course. Although the broken toe almost got Tom in trouble ;)

The other day my dear hubs decided I needed to go to the doctor since I have tingling in my hands. After calmly explaining that it was simply nerve damage from slipping off of the pole a couple of weeks ago I got the raised eye-brows. Thankfully he's stopped commenting otherwise.

I'm a pole addict. And there's no help for it!

There are other things though, like this morning I realised that walking with your head up and looking at people as they pass you often gets a smile. Sometimes you get a hello. After years of looking at the pavement it's nice to finally look the world in the eyes.

It's not just in the amazing progress you see from week to week (you won't know what I mean until you try it), or in the burst of confidence you get from knowing you are strong. And not just strong for a girl. You're strong. It's not even about the rush of excitement you get from thinking or talking about pole, or re-watching your videos to work out how you can improve. The feeling of getting a "well done, you look awesome". The feeling of KNOWING you rocked it before anyone even says anything. You also get to build a community, new friends, you discover things you never knew about yourself.

For instance, I never knew I could hold my own body weight off of the floor. I never knew that bruising your inner arm hurts like the devil is pinching you (;P). I never knew that my body could (sometimes) move gracefully (admit it Karen, it happens sometimes!!).

Last night, for my "something new" this week (see challenge week 5 for more info!) I did a gold-rush. I'm not going to post the video - yes my confidence has come along in leaps and bounds but there is NO WAY I'm publishing my stomach on that pole :p A gold rush looks a bit like this:

Of course I don't look like THAT, but one day. One day ;)

I also managed to get "Gemini" down - got some work to do on it, like putting my legs back, but both hands off the pole....eeek and SQUEEEEEE . It's a rush xD

There was an incident where I managed to get myself stuck half-way between a Gemini and a Gold-Rush. It was an interesting experience. Like being caught in limbo. Eventually I squeaked enough that Tom helped me down <3

The pink shorts of power REALLY helped. It's amazing what clothes can do to your pysche, but I felt invincible! I even took on the inverted fly-hold and held it. Twice :D

Now, the pink shorts are NEON pink, I really am the day-glo girl again in them. I'm afraid though that they'll get washed out when I wash them so I'm not washing them till they're crusty. I mean it....Tom may have to move poles.

In the tradition of the new-things video I got a video of my Marley. This is something that a few weeks ago I was too nervous to do. Amazing what a few weeks can do. I'm not nervous, I'm raring to go. Instead of Karen looking at me and trying to reassure me that everything will be ok, I'm now seeing that all too familiar glint in her eyes as she decides what she's going to get me doing this week.

Release the shackles and find out what you can do! You'll never know until you give yourself permission!!

Now, in other news:
(see, it's so easy to talk forever about pole xD)....ooops, almost got sidetracked again.

Happy Birthday to Amber!! She's 20 today :D she's spent the day being pampered, which is just about right - I hope she's had a great day :D

Tasha is doing well with her kebab challenge - no kebab meals, great job :D

Well, that's all I really have for today. I'm done ;)

Remember guys, every legitimate ad-click round the site gets us money for fundraising - so don't be shy, check them out :D we're up to £5 already so HUGE thanks to everyone clicking those ads - wub you!!

I also have to say I am humbled by the amount of people who come and read what I have to say. Some people even think what I have to say is worth retweeting, or putting into their daily/weekly story summaries....it's amazing. Thank you. I hope I'll be seeing you again :D Maybe you'll introduce yourself one day xD

Do you do everything in your life just so other people notice? What exactly does that contribute to your life?

I know what this is trying to say, but if you're only trying to match someone elses standards when do you know when you've reached your goal? Yes, getting compliments are nice but if that's the only thing that makes you happy you may want to review what you're doing.

I guess what I'm trying to say is do it for yourself sisters (and brothers). Don't try and conform other people's expectations

Eeeeek. These ones make me cringe. Both externally and internally.

Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels? Really? Surely being healthy tastes just as good as skinny feels.

Want to have control? Want a PERFECT body? And a perfect soul? Yes, we all love Radiohead but this really does smack of obsessive eating/health behaviours. How does having a perfect soul correlate to having a perfect body? Is control something that makes you perfect? I think you need to be very careful with this sort of wording, because underneath it you have an undercurrent of "eating "bad" food" makes you imperfect.

The concept of "bad" foods make me cringe (maybe) even more than these photos. I don't think it fosters a healthy relationship if you start saying "this is a good food" or "this is a bad food". Rather they need to be choices independent of how you feel about them and taking into account the nutritional value of each item.

You're already in pain? You're already hurt? Goodness what on earth are you doing? YES working out is hard. YES you should push yourself to work hard. YES it burns. If you're in pain though you're probably doing something wrong. Don't substitute good form just to feel like you're working harder, it's a quick way to get long-term injuries.

I find this one hard to take seriously. I hope that it was written that way.

I'll often joke when someone says "omg, all you talk about is X (insert sport here. Usually pole)" that "yeah yeah, you just can't recognise dedication". Maybe that is the case. Maybe I'm a bit crazy. Maybe it's a bit of both.

I think you need to be VERY careful when using the word "obsessive" in conjunction with exercise. There are some very serious disorders associated with fitness, health and food and they can make people very ill.

This just really reads like someone trying to justify something that could be a very serious illness. Obsessed is a word that people use to describe someone they're slightly worried about.

Dedicated is a word people use to describe someone who has the balance right but they love what they're doing and work hard for it. Know the difference.

Really.

Is this all women aspire to? To be a "fit soccer mom".

Really? Is that all we are? Aspiring mothers?

How about "Reason: So my joints don't give in when I'm 40."

Jus' sayin'. I don't think I have any more words for this one.

Right. There are no excuses. I kind of agree with that. You want it, you work for it.

You need those fries? Sometimes.

You need that burger? With extra relish, cheese, salad and the bun. Yes, please.

Trust yourself - yes of course!

When I look like that? What if I don't WANT to look like that? What if I want muscles? What if I want to be ripped? What if I want to be a sumo wrestler? Who states what healthy looks like. Why should we conform to one ideal?

This one is again doing it for someone else. You're doing it to look like society wants you to. Not because you want to be happy, healthy and fit.

This doesn't ACTUALLY state what you're trying to do either. Are you trying to motivate yourself to eat *bad* things? (actually if you think about the fat and the protein in the burger and the carbs in the chips it sounds good to me!).

Think about your goals. Decide what YOU want to achieve. It's not for someone else to decide, you're the only person who can change you.

It was Monday today.

Do you know how I know that?

It was nothing to do with the calendar, or the start of the working week. Oh no. Today was Monday in every sense of the word.

As I reached into my fridge today the hinge broke. No big deal right? Except that the fridge door has to weigh a good 20kg and I was now holding the door in my left hand and my breakfast (blueberries, a yoghurt and the milk for my protein shake) in my right hand.

It's daily I thank weight training for making my life easier ;) (yes, things like this happen on a daily occurance, you get used to it). After juggling the fridge door (which I might add had a further 4 pints of milk, several packets of cheese, some chillis and a litre of apple juice in it) I managed to wiggle it back onto the hinge, all the while desperately trying not to drop my breakfast.

It was a hard decision.....do I drop the breakfast or the door? The counter is too far away for me to put the food down, but oh, the door is balanced just so against my shoulder...I chose to drop neither and did a trick worthy of a master magician.

After I left the fridge alone, very carefully replacing what I hadn't eaten I walked to work. Naturally I was late.

I got an email titled "Your Mother-in-law" which is always cause for concern and was informed by someone else that I'm on a trip next week. Ooops. Had forgotten that.

Of course the wind drove everyone crazy and there were kids running around like feral cats on a full moon, zig-zagging and practically climbing the walls. Just another day.

To top it all off it was "uppers" day. I have to admit at this point I have a varied relationship with uppers. As you're trying to bench those last two reps it's like your head is going to explode. Once you've re-racked you could take on the world!

There were some (what I can only describe as) children doing some sort of bizarre initiation ceremony involving the barbells in several weights and bopping up and down in time with each other. I can only assume they were doing calf raises. What I couldn't work out is how the 15kg barbell came into it.

The gym was packed. There was an amazing looking woman there, who is one of my gym-idols! She just looks great and lifts like a beast. Always motivating :D

We lift like beasts to look like foxes, oooh yea.

Tom also decided that I needed to man up. So I got a honorary penis for the session. I walked with a swagger and made good use of the 17.5kg dumbells. I was happy.

That is, I was happy until we decided to do some HIIT. I thought it would be "fun" to subject Tom to Sophie's HIIT pyramid....

I still ache. And my lungs hurt. Thanks Sophie :p


Anyway, in the shower after the gym I discovered that I've swapped the Zombie shuffle for the Zombie grab. You know the one, where your arms won't come above chest level.

Given I'm still bending like an old lady the zombie grab should be fun instilling "fear" into my class tomorrow. Ha. As if. Apparently the thought of me being scary is funny to them. I'll have to do my Yoda impression. That will get them.

Anyway, short and sweet today. I'm starving. I'll leave you with this though.

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