I get a kick out of...

What a transformation your feeling of inner balance, well-being, and happiness will undergo from just a week of full-on healthy eating and working out. Since Sunday last week, I’ve been to the gym five times (missing out on two days because of a tension migraine I always seem to get just after uni finishes; my body isn’t quite used to all the spare time), and eaten nothing but home-cooked, from scratch, delicious food. The meal and gym diaries are working their magic, as is the meal planner that I’ve followed strictly all week long. I thought this diet might be the biggest challenge, but it really isn’t that hard; I only put food on it that I know I’ll actually eat, and enjoy eating at that. 

I feel stronger. At the gym, I can go for an hour with an average of 130 heart beats per minute and smile the whole time; there is something inexplicably beautiful in this raw, physical strength, like a favourite taste, but for your muscles. They thrive in their exercises and cheer whenever I push them a little harder than the day before. Then, while I’m stretching, they thank me for the time I’ve given them and their well-being, and carry me out to the car, though a little more staggering than when I entered the gym. 

What’s really important to remember when working out this much, though, is letting your muscles rest; I only ever do two days in a row with the same muscle group, leaving them to chill out when they’ve had enough. My mum told me a story from her gym, about a man who pushes himself to the absolute limit, but then has to call it quits within fifteen minutes. In one session, their trainer had to show the man how to pace himself, while telling the rest of the group that the people who start too hard, usually quit too soon. The muscles need their sleep too. But when they get that sleep, the energy levels you get back from them to do other things is fantastic; you sleep great, because your body is physically exhausted, and wake up the next morning with a buzzing mind and a huge smile. I love it.

At the grocery store, my new favourite section has become the vegetable and fruit aisles, which is the first thing you walk in to once you’re through the doors at our local Coles. Thank you, clever store manager organising person. Veggies and fruits take up 50% of our trolley now, accompanied mostly by poultry and seafood (and the odd kangaroo - delicious, chock-full-of-protein meat). I frown at the ready-made, processed, lets face it, crap, that takes up too much space in the store, and smile when we hit the fresh food deli. 

“Can we grab some salmon, fresh calamari, and a filet of that cool fish from Tanzania, please?”

We cause a hold-up with our order, and a lady looks surprised at all our seafood.

“What are you making?” she asks politely, though seemingly overwhelmed.

“Oh, just, you know, lunch and dinner. We heard seafood can be quite good for you.”

The woman smiles and explains that that’s why she’s at the deli too; for some of that healthy seafood stuff. I can vouch for that. Salmon salad is my new favourite, with sprouts, cucumber, rocket salad, and spinach. And some capsicums for a treat. Delicious, and filling, and makes my tummy, and insides, and mind, smile. A big smile, every day. Then, as my first-week-completed treat on Friday, I had strawberries with a bit of sugar. Nothing with one billion ingredients. Nothing I can’t identify what is. It feels good knowing what I’m putting into my body; it keeps thanking me for it after every meal. 

Super duper summer time

The day before yesterday, I finished my second year of university, finally creating the time slots in which I can once again dedicate myself to the clean eating, working out, happy body, happy mind health kick. It feels quite amazing. To invest in this new program (which includes eating at least three entirely healthy meals a day and working out at the gym every day), Ariz and I ventured to Kikki K - aka organisation heaven - to purchase a meal planner, workout diary, and food log book. We’ve both started filling them out; a great tip from Ariz’s trainer Deb, 54-year-old ex-bodybuilder who could just as well be 40 from the looks of her. 

“You’ll have the tightest ass in Perth,” she says to Ariz, as I watch him struggle through deep lunges with an added 30 kgs in his hands. 

The books keep you organised, focused, and entirely honest, which are all essentials if you want to succeed in any kind of long-term fitness or health goal. And it’s fun, cause you reward yourself with little treats when you’ve completed a day, or week, or month, of hardcore fitness. We’re going for a Guinness later.

Yesterday, I visited the gym in a healthy state for the first time after my bronchitis months. The workout was absolutely thrilling. I didn’t wheeze, I didn’t feel dizzy, and I ran. It’s been so long since I ran on the treadmill, and it was indescribably fantastic. Then I re-visited my old friends, the lunges, as well as the severely missed sit-ups. Unfortunately, I’ve managed to obtain an inflamed tendon in my thumb, so weights are no-can-do for the moment; my appraisal on Thursday should fix that one right up. 

Then there’s the issue of the food. Having been sick and ridiculously busy with university, my diet has also gone severely down-hill. I’ve gained more fat-kilos than I want to mention here, so since my health kick - and it will forever be known as the health kick - started yesterday, a serious clean-up in food has been made (yes, this far, being the last two days, being nothing in the long term, but reach for the stars, right?). Back at Kikki K we purchased meal planners, and set up two completely different menus; Ariz is trying to gain weight, and I’m trying to lose it. My menu mostly consists of protein and vegetables now, with some complex carbs, like quinoa, brown rice, and rye bread, in between. I made myself a delicious salmon salad for lunch yesterday and followed up with calamari and capsicums at night. It’s a huge transition for my body; my stomach shrieks up at me: “What is this?! I have to work again? But I was so comfortable passing it all on to the fat cells...”

The great thing about healthy food is that you can, and should, eat loads of it. I’ve realised that in order to keep this going, I will have to actually make my own meal plans, and ensure that I enjoy everything on them to hold in the large amounts; if I have some superior force telling me what to do, I’ll get sick of it, and quickly too. Deb pointed out that it’s important to load up on poultry and seafood; I now have red meat once a week, and carbohydrates only with lunch. Unless you have an extremely high metabolism, your body isn’t going to process those carbs overnight, so it’s important to get them all dealt with before you go to sleep. Handy tip. Thanks, Deb.

As I entered the gym today, I felt like myself again for the first time in a long time. I did 45 squats, 60 lunges, 74 sit-ups and ten minutes on the treadmill among many other exercises, with some energy to spare at the end of my session. I cannot believe I’m excited to get up at 7 AM tomorrow morning for another workout. The summer, it seems, is finally here.

To the gym!

Today I returned to the gym. Nothing quite like heading back to a place you haven’t visited for the last four weeks. It was almost a bit nostalgic; my friend the treadmill, the equipment, machinery, and other regulars working out. And, of course, the staff member who always plays the best music and has the kindest smile in the world.

“Long time, no see, guys! Where have you been?” 

“Bronchitis,” we reply in dismay, looking with longing and bittersweet sadness at the room we are facing.

“No shit. That’s no good. Well, make sure you take it easy as, yeah? It’s like starting from scratch when you’ve been sick and away for this long.”

Tell me about it. I almost felt like Ariz and I should have high-fived before embarking on the workout that only lasted thirty minutes, but felt like at least and hour and a half. I got on the treadmill, and started walking, with a resting heart rate about twenty beats a minute quicker than usual. Oh yeah, I have a heart rate monitor now. It’s really cool. It’s from Polar and keeps track of my heart rate, calorie burn, workout efficiency, and gives me weekly summaries of how I’ve been doing. For the past month Ms Polar hasn’t had much to report, of course. Calories burnt: Zero. Time spent at the gym: Zero. Stamina: Zero. She doesn’t actually tell me about that last one, although I do feel like she stares compassionately at me from time to time. She certainly did today. 

My goodnes, I’m unfit now. I mournfully set the treadmill to my regular fat burn program, at three levels less than usual and four kms an hour instead of nearly six. It started off all right, and I thought “Hey, maybe I’m okay. Maybe I can speed it up to five kilometres and hour.” No can do, mister. Once the incline went up, I was in big trouble. My heart rate was resting at 99 beats per minute when I started the walk - ten minutes later, I’d hit 140, and I wasn’t even doing Norwegian military marching speed. By fifteen minutes I was wheezing, and had to call it quits. So much for cardio. 

Ariz wasn’t doing any better - he was wheezing over in the weights section, but I figured I should try some muscle work. Even if just for the fun of it. Away I went at 0.0 miles an hour, finishing off with a grand total of TWENTY FOUR lunges. Oh. my. god. I stretched, and half an hour after we’d entered, we left.

“How’d you guys go?” the lovely gym instructor asked us on our way out.

“Terrible.”

“You know what? I think it’s great you’re coming in here already - it’s not been that long. And you just gotta keep it calm, yeah? If not you’ll get sick again. Take it easy, guys.”

“Thanks.”

Back in the car, we collapsed onto our car seats, had each our delicious Carnarvon banana, and finished the bottle of water we’d left half-full in the gym. Ms Polar looked up at me. 180 calories. 30 minutes. And a peak heart rate of 152 beats per minute. Man, I gotta work hard to get back to where I was. But, damn, it’s good to be back and going.