Thursday 28 August 2014

Progress report

Mark the Magician (the personal trainer) had casually mentioned in my first session with him that a person should really be able to deadlift their own body weight without too much trouble. That was the same day that I squeaked and groaned as I tried to deadlift 25kg, and protested, "That's really quite heavy!"

He was gallant about it and didn't laugh at me until a week later.

Today, I was lifting 50kg. It was tough, but up it went, for 6 reps. Then I did pull ups - pull ups! - for 6 reps (I'll admit, they were assisted rather than my full body weight, but still). This whole process was repeated 5 times. I felt like Xena. Next time we do deadlifts, apparently we're gunning for the full body weight equivalent. It's exciting.

Now when I tense my glutes, there's actually a slight curve to my butt, and there is something firm underneath the winter stores. This is very exciting. It's been a long time since I had a butt worth mentioning.

Friday 22 August 2014

The "C" word - Christmas

Today, I've been thinking about (I'm going to say it, I'm going to say the "C" word...) Christmas.

I reminded myself sternly that it's only August, and that sort of nonsense wouldn't be tolerated until at least 30th November, but my little brain wouldn't give in and occupy itself with anything more useful.

This Christmas is lining up to be the first one I will have ever spent away from my immediate family. I've spent a few years where I've only been with a few members of the clan, but generally it has been a home affair. Some years we join forces with another branch of the family, other years we keep it small. This year, I will be elsewhere (or so we hope, visas permitting...).

The reason it stuck in my mind so insistently was the realisation that I am poorly equipped for Christmas. My parents have been collecting Christmas decorations for decades, and have ample supplies of fairy lights, ancient tinsel, fibre optics, baubles and bells and whistles. Every year, the attic vomits forth a mountain of boxes of decorations, and we spend a couple of days decking the halls with boughs of holly - literally.

This year I have no holly (and no hall to deck, so never mind). No fairy lights. No baubles, no bells, no whistles. Not even a sad strand of tinsel. I am at square one for Christmas.

The good news is that we found a Christmas tree stand under the weeds in our back yard, so we at least have that.

Naturally, faced with a Christmas vacuum, I turned to the only place I could: Pinterest.


There is an abundance of ideas. Some are marvellous, some are... deranged? Some require such an investment in materials that you might as well buy ready-made decorations and save yourself the bother.

Most affordable seems to be home made salt dough ornaments, and they seem to be so simple that even I will find it hard to screw them up. I might even splash out on some cans of metallic spray paint. I'll need ribbon, too.

I also fancy some of the woven and folded paper decorations, although I disapprove entirely of any that use pages from books. Don't people know that books are sacred?? I've seen some very fancy colours being used, but being a traditional old fart, I will probably be using good old red, green and gold for my Christmas palette.

I really need to get out more.

Thursday 21 August 2014

Mexican rice and black beans - cheat food

Earlier on this week, I met up with my best friend for supper. We plumped for our favourite Mexican eatery, where I stuffed my face with fish tacos. On the side was a small pot of black beans and rice.

I've been craving black beans and rice ever since. No other beans would do. There must be something in the black beans that I need. This afternoon I cobbled together this cheat* meal in about four minutes flat. It was so good.

Cheat food. Mexican rice, black beans, tomatoes, avocado mashed with lime. #omnomnom

*Why is this a cheat meal? Because I used packaged rice, that's why. Uncle Ben's Mexican rice with lime, to be exact. Don't judge me!

Here's how it happened:

Half a packet of Mexican rice
Half a can of black beans, rinsed and drained.
2 tablespoons of water

All of these went into a covered pan over low heat to warm through, stirring occasionally.

In the meantime, I halved an avocado, added a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lime juice, and roughly mashed. I then quartered some cherry tomatoes.

Ta-da! The rice and beans were lovely and hot and mushy! Shoved it all into a bowl, and gorged myself silly.

In future, I resolve to make my own Mexican rice. But given that I was in a post-gym state of jelly-limbs and questionable stability, quick and easy was what I needed.

Enjoy!

Tuesday 12 August 2014

The Battle - Farewell, Robin Williams

At 2am this morning, when I finally tore myself away from The West Wing and decided I should go to sleep, I saw the sad news that legendary actor, Robin Williams, had taken his own life.

Image from robin-williams.net

My generation was lucky to get to know him in our childhood as the Genie, as Mrs Doubtfire, and as a whole host of other benevolent and inspiring characters. We loved him - we still love him. He was a crazy uncle to us all. He was also, without doubt, one of the most talented actors we will ever know.

When I saw the headlines that he had committed suicide, I took a long, slow breath. It was sad news, indeed. I was not surprised. He had been open about his battle with depression for many years, and so many of the best comedians are blighted with the demons at the other end of the spectrum. Perhaps this is what makes them so good at being funny - they have so much practice at keeping the smile in place, at behaving as if everything is great, just fine, there is so much to laugh about... It becomes an effortless charade.

Sometimes, the smallest victory in depression is getting home and feeling as if you managed to fool everybody that day.

I think I put on a good show today. Nobody suspected how bad it is. I made everybody laugh. They all think I'm normal. Even better, they think I'm fun and outgoing and happy. Mission accomplished.

Some of the toughest moments are when you look at your successes, and you can see how good your life is, how many people around you love you and care about you, and you still sit slumped on the sofa, thinking to yourself, I don't want any of this any longer.

If there is anything to be learned from the battle of another man, it should be that there is not a scale of severity with depression. If you're not suicidal, that doesn't mean you are less worthy of help and support and treatment than somebody who is. If you have mastered the effortless charade, that doesn't mean that you are coping well. You don't have to be looking at the last option for what you're feeling to be recognised as serious. That 'waiting it out' isn't the answer. You don't have to accept the bad days, because it's not just a bad day when they happen over and over again.

Depression bites deep, and hard, and holds on. People who are lucky enough not to know this black dog don't realise that you can't just shake it off. They don't realise that we are all actors, giving the performance of our life, because we worry about the reaction of our friends and family if we admit that sometimes life is impossible, and we don't even know why.

Let's talk about the battle. Those of us fighting in it are brave, and strong; not weak, nor cowardly. To go out into the world every day, despite the growling and the darkness, is an act of courage and determination.

Let's talk about those people who march in to the darkness, seeking the light on the other side. Genie, you're free...


Thursday 7 August 2014

The to-do list

Well, gosh...

I always imagine that, at some point, I will be on the winning side of my to-do list. I'll eventually have fewer things to do than I have already done, and the end will be in sight. Occasionally I dream that I will have nothing left to do, and then I can mess about being creative and frivolous (and play Xbox).

On my brief trip out to Washington last month, I drew up a to-do list in the first day or so, and then spent the entire visit adding to it. A few things were crossed off, such as "buy Xbox", and generally I'm pleased with what I got done at the new house, but I left behind so many tasks that I felt I should have been able to conquer if I hadn't been wallowing in illness and misery on the couch.

Being ill in America is very crappy, and I do not recommend it.

I have come back to the UK for what I hope to be the last time before I get permission to be in the US for the foreseeable future. My to-do list here is growing by the day. I grapple most with the strange way that other people's to-do lists seem to end up being put on to mine, because I have "nothing else to do but wait around", as I was told this morning.

How glorious it is when your work is tangible, and you can show somebody what you've been doing all day, when they can see you physically toiling away on an object or a task with immediately measurable results. What a luxury it must be not to have to explain that you might appear to be freely available, but you are in fact masterminding a global operation. It just happens to involve a lot of sitting down.

All I can do at this point is get my glasses on, get my head down, and get on with what needs doing, and attempt to hold it all together without having a meltdown.

I think Cowboy is expecting a meltdown soon. He usually knows before I do...

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