It Can't be Because I'm Getting Old!

Doesn't everybody do their shoulder presses in the ocean?

So I'm back at the gym.  Absence did not make the heart grow fonder.

As I previously blogged, I've decided to approach this process as a marathon and not a sprint.  Thus I've revamped my exercise program, alternating days with cardio and weight training.  My cardio is now a walk on the treadmill at 3.8 mph for 45 minutes, focusing more on burning fat, so I can bring the weight down and alleviate some of the pain in my knees.  The weight training is all about changing some of my jiggly bits, into less jiggly bits.  Plus there's the whole muscle burns more calories than fat thing, which is good for me, because I like to eat!

So Monday saw my first day of weight training begin.  I decided to use the machines, instead of the free weights.  I know there's a lot of pros to the free weights, but I can get in and out in just under an hour if I use the all the machines I need, and I've realized that an hour is the extent of my interest in working out. 

The club where I work out is part of a golf and country club.  The clientele, or rather members are on the whole, my age or older.  One has to reach a rather comfortable financial spot in life in order afford a membership here.  Being retired (or unemployed, but I prefer the term retired), I'm free to work out during the day, which is when the other retired people are working out too - many of them with a personal trainer.  During my time spent in the gym, I've met a few of them.  One of my favourite's is Ruth, no Ruth has to be pushing 90 years old, she's had a double mastectomy, a hip replacement and has buried three husbands (as you can tell, Ruth likes to chat).  Ruth works out every day with the attitude, if you don't use it, you loose it!

When I arrived at the gym, Ruth was working her way through the machines ahead of me with a personal trainer.  Since Ruth is less than five feet tall, the trainer has to adjust most of the machines for her stature, which means I have to adjust them for me (sans trainer).  Ruth uses the lightest weights, so I have to come along and adjust the weights upwards/heavier to achieve the resistance that I require for toning.  This went along predictably as I worked my way around the circuit untill I came to the shoulder press. 

When I had been working out the previous winter, I had not done any shoulder presses.  There were so many other problem areas on my body that required my attention and as far as I could see, my shoulders weren't jiggly.  This time around I decided to add the shoulder press, since I've enlarged my weight training process.

Thus I approached the machine, adjust the seat (after Ruth's previous height challenged state) and naturally added on more weights than Ruth was using.  I settled in, and went to raise the weights above my head ... I must have adjusted the machine incorrectly, because I couldn't really move the weights!  I got off checked everything over, but it all looked to be in good working order, plus Ruth had just used it.  I shrugged and thought well maybe I'll just take off a bit of the weight, when lo and behold ... I could just barely move it!  I had to take off almost of the weight before I could properly do my reps! 

Oh the shame, oh the ignominy!  Ruth could do more in shoulder presses than I could.

I clearly have a long way to go ...

Tuesday I was pretty stiff and sore from the new regime.  I know this will take perseverance.

Maybe I should find a 100 year old member and follow them when I weight train!

And So It Continues ...

My husband John came home from his yearly physical last week with a generally clean bill of health.  Of course there was the usual caveat about the need to lose some weight - this in turn forced me to confront the fact that over the course of the summer, I too had slowly put on a few ... maybe more than a few pounds.  I had been assiduously avoiding the scales since early July when I came within 4 pounds of loosing the thirty pounds that I had originally set out to loose earlier this year.

Let me back track a bit.

I had been quite good about going to the gym, the 5K run that I completed with Julie had been an excellent goal, but my knees were really not taking too well to the continual pounding that I was subjecting them to.  I was constantly popping anti-inflammatory aspirins.  I knew that I was too heavy to be running so much, that a wiser course of action would be to lose the weight and then start running, but I was in such a hurry to lose the weight.  I had such grandiose plans about competing in triathlons ... but you know what they say about best laid plans ...

I fell off the exercise wagon with a whimper not a bang.

I started to play golf more and more.  It's a game I enjoy and something that John, the kids and I could do together.  We generally walk the course and it's a very hilly course.  I thought I was getting enough exercise with the golf and let the gym fall by the wayside.  I was also playing hockey once a week.  I thought I had my bases covered.  I thought wrong!

Walking the course, even in the extreme heat that we had this summer wasn't much of a cardio workout.  Then after we played 18 holes, I'd be tired and we'd order pizza for dinner.  With hockey, we played at 6:45, which meant there was lots of time afterwards for pizza and beer - you can see where this is all leading ...

I put back on 10 pounds this summer, plus the muscle that I had so painfully cultivated in the gym returned to its rather nasty, jiggly state.  I'm not back at square one, but I'm not where I should be.  So it's time to get back in the saddle again. 

I had a great summer, but it's time to head back to the gym.  I've realized that this process is a marathon, not a sprint.  This time, there will be no desperate plan to lose weight, but a return to regular exercise and eating healthily in moderation.  There'll be treats here and there, since let's be honest, life has to be enjoyed too!

So stay tuned, as I continue my weight loss journey.  Maybe as I progress, I'll actually admit how much weight I really have to lose.  Let it suffice to say it's a lot.  The thirty pounds that I initally set out to lose was just the first step ... now I have many steps. 

I will do this.

Being a Nomad

Sometimes, you just have to leave ...

In another month, I'll be starting to play in a new hockey league.  This will be my fourth season playing hockey and my third league, somehow when I started to play this sport, I never envisioned that a nomadic existence would become part of the process.  

I have played on some great teams, with some incredible people.  I've forged new friendships and won championships.  I've learned new skills, as well as recognized some limitations.  In short, I've discovered so much through hockey, but what still eludes me is finding an appropriate league to play within. 

My illustrious (said firmly with tongue in cheek) hockey career began in a league called True North Hockey.  Its primary attraction stemmed from the fact that it offered adult beginner hockey.  The first half of the season was spent acquiring basic hockey skills and the second half of the season was spent playing games against other beginners in the same league.  It was an idea situation for me.  I was also lucky, in that I was placed on a team that consisted of many wonderful people.  I played in True North for two years, the arena wasn't the greatest (on one of the ice surfaces, the gates to the bench would barely open), the change room washrooms only had urinals (quite the logistical problem for a female), but what became fairly obvious fairly quickly, was that adult recreational hockey was really about the social aspect as well as about the hockey (in that order).

Regretfully, John and I had to leave the league after the conveners of the league agreed to let Jamie play with us in their summer league and then suddenly reneged on their agreement, yet refused to refund our money.  In short, they took our money, but wouldn't let him play all the games that were paid for.  In the end we were put in the untenable situation of being right, but if we protested any further our team would be penalized. 

It's a life lesson;  in that being right doesn't necessarily equate with being treated in the right way.  We couldn't teach our kids a lesson about the honour of standing by your words if we didn't live by the same tenets ourselves.  Our teammates tried to argue with the league on our behalf and did threaten to leave the league, but in the end, being right is sometimes lonely and our team chose to stay in the league whilst John and I moved on.  We knew it was our battle and not theirs, and there were no hard feelings on our part, but it doesn't lessen the disappointment that we felt in having to leave.

Luckily we landed on our feet (or skates as the case may be) in a new league called Hockey Toronto.  It was a loosely run league for low to mid level players that was suitable for my skill level.  Again we were fortunate in that we were placed on a team that coalesced well.  There was also another married couple on the team (which is rather rare in hockey) as well as another female who played while her very patient husband faithfully watched from the stands.  The six of us soon formed the core group at the bar, with the other members of the team joining in at various times. 

Like True North Hockey there were issues with this league as well.  The schedule was rarely posted more than a week ahead of time, which made it difficult to plan around with regards to work, meetings and picking up kids from work.  It was supposed to be a co-ed league, yet some of the teams didn't have any female members and at times the rosters seems to be somewhat elastic from week to week, since some teams would have highly skilled players come out to play which would result in a less than enjoyable experience for a low level player like myself.  On the whole though, I enjoyed the league and decided that it was better to accept it for what it simply was, rather than what I wanted it to be.

Unfortunately, Aaron, who is half of the other married couple on our team, as well as being a key component in our social circle (he's really good at pouring the big team pitchers that we get at Boston Pizza), had a run in with the convener of Hockey Toronto.  To be honest, I'm still confused as to what the issue might have been and since I wasn't privy to any of their conversations and interactions, it wouldn't be fair for me to comment on them.  In the end, Aaron was asked to leave the league.  Suffice it to say, I was faced with the decision of leaving with Aaron (lets be honest, John would play wherever I wanted to play) or stay with the team.  It all became somewhat similar to the song I know an old lady who swallowed a fly ...  Aaron leaving meant the his wife Meghan would leave,  Aaron and Meghan leaving meant that Leela would leave (which meant her husband Randy would leave too) since the three (+ 1) of them joined the league together.  Leela was the one that gave our son Jamie a summer internship at her company ... So job and beer pouring ... it was a simple decision - John and I decided to leave the league too.

So once the dust settled, it appears that we'll be playing in the Russell Hockey league.  I'm now under no illiusions that there won't be issues with this league too.  At least it's a league for players who are over the age of 30, which should be a bit better for us.  I'll let you know how it works out - I know Toronto is a big city, but I think I'm running out of hockey leagues ...

Practice ... I Mean We're Talking About Practice!

 One of a least 100 pictures I have of

Guinness leaping in the air to catch the ball

He's a dog who puts everything he has into chasing a ball -

every single time he goes after the ball

The other day, John, Madie and I were playing nine holes at our golf club.  The course at our club is a challenging one with narrow fairways, a great deal of water (the Don River intersects the course 14 times over 18 holes) and some challenging bunker placements.  Overall the course demands forethought and an ability to place the ball; rather than hitting it and hoping for the best (which is how I usually play the game).  But, lo and behold on the 9th hole during my approach shot to the green, from about 130 yards out, I sunk my shot!  It was a spectacular shot to an elevated green, that landed about 10 feet from the pin and promptly rolled in.  If I was a pro and it were a televised game, it would have certainly made the highlight reel!

To say the least, I was absolutely gobsmacked (such a great word, that North Americans don't utilize enough)!  Though I have to admit a great deal of luck went into the shot and I probably couldn't come close to repeating it ever again in my life.  I ended up double bogeying the hole (I know, quite the accomplishment given my final shot), due to a rather unfortunate tee shot that ended up in the river, yet even with the unfortunate score, I was quite happy, because what I think is happening, is that all my practice is starting to pay off.

I practice golf, far more than I practice hockey.  It shows in my golf game and it certainly shows in my hockey game!

Guinness, is our family dog.  He's a rescue dog whose highly attached to our family and to chasing a bright pink tennis ball.  At times, I think he'd have a hard time deciding which is the more important to him, and in my heart of hearts, I fear the tennis ball would win out (but only if it's bright pink).

Guinness is walked three times a day now.  Actually the term 'walk' is a bit of a misnomer, since the only walking that takes place is on our way to or from the park (or school grounds or beach).  Once there Guinness single mindedly chases a ball.  Oh, there are odd interruptions to take care of doggy bodily functions and he might deign to give a fellow pooch the odd sniff, but all in all, he's incredibly focused upon chasing said pink tennis ball.

He's absolutely amazing at leaping and twisting to catch the ball in mid air.  He's never been taught to do so and he's quite aware that he can remain on the ground to catch the ball, but I think he prefers the challenge of an acrobatic catch.  We use a device called a "chuckit" which is an elongated arm that holds a tennis ball and allows the thrower to gain far greater distance with their throw (another positive to this device, is that it allows the thrower to pick up the ball without touching it, an important feature with a doggy saliva soaked ball).  We throw and throw and throw ....  Guinness loves it.

Today while I was throwing the ball for Guinness I got to thinking and then to timing.  I throw a ball approximately every 30 seconds and usually we're out for an hour - which means

1 outing = 120 throws (catches and returns)  ... yes we are approximating
3 outings per day (120 x 3) = 360 throws (catches and returns)
7 days per week (7 x 360) =  2520 throws (catches and returns)
52 weeks per year (52 x 2520) =  131,040 throws (catches and returns)

OK I know there are days he doesn't get three outings, but there are other days, like on the weekend when John takes him to the beach for a couple of hours or when we go to a cottage and it lasts all day ... so I think it all works out ....

This since Guinness is 3 ... 3 x 131,040 = 393,120 throws (catches and returns).  Or 3 hours per day x 365 days per year 1095 hours per year which is 3,285 hours over Guinness' lifetime so far ...

No wonder he's good.  We're talking about a lot of practice .... now only if I could do that with my golf or hockey skills ... I'd still never be as good as Guinness is ... and I even use pink golf balls!  Maybe I should look for a bright pink hockey puck!

Always the Pylon, Never the Star

I know I am ... but what are you?

I have come to the inevitable (and probably self obvious to others) conclusion, that I'm not going to improve in my ability to play hockey.  It's been a gradual realization, made more apparent by the improvement in my golf game.  I started playing golf a year ago and I'm substantially better (don't get me wrong, nobody is trembling on the LPGA).  I started playing hockey almost 4 years ago and I'm pretty much at the same level as I was when I came out of the beginner program.

It's a simple combination of age, lack of natural ability and lack of practice.  I love the game and my attitude has never wavered - I enjoy the camaraderie, the exercise and the excitement.  I'm proud of the skills, however meagre, that I've garnered along the way.  I want to play the game, I don't want to watch it.

Playing is the crux of the matter.

Last night I played a game, in which I might as well been a pylon.  The opposing team had so many highly skilled players, that carried the puck end to end at such speed, that I might as well not even bother to be on the ice.  It was frustrating, but due to their mockery, it was embarrassing also.  One individual on their team even made disparaging remarks about my level of play when I attempted to take puck from him. 

Such a game isn't fun for me, I fail to see why it would be fun for them.

I play in a league that it supposed to be both co-ed and for the low to mid level player.  This is a recreational league, a beer league would be the best description.  It's a league where my skills belong. 

I get it why some guys want to play in low level league, so they can play with their buddies (or in my case, so my husband can play with me).  What I don't understand, is some of these better players seem to feel that they have to showcase their abilities as if the scouts from the NHL were sitting in the stands. If you're 18 years old and just out of AAA hockey, of course you're going to fly by the  49 year old premenopausal woman whose been playing for four years.  I get it the first time it happens, you're young, you get carried away, but when it's still happening in the third period and then to mock me at the same time ... well now you're just looking pathetic.

It was frustrating.  It was demoralizing.  It wasn't fun like the game is supposed to be.

In a way, I feel sorry that there are people who need to make themselves feel better, by making others look bad.  Buddy, if the highlight of your life is streaking past me on the rink, then your life is pretty small. 

I still went out afterwards and had chicken wings and beer, enjoyed the company of good friends, bitched and complained about the game and then let it go.  I got to spend the evening playing with my stepson (whose highlight of the evening is the premium beer, which he doesn't get while away at university); I then got to return to a beautiful home. to a husband I adore and my stepdaughter who will play golf with me tomorrow.  Life is good, I still won.

... I think I can ... well close enough!

Julie & I before the race .... before The Hill

It all seemed so sensible months ago .... ah the best laid plans ....  Goal setting is supposed to be important in your fitness regime in order to keep things fresh and to keep you motivated.  It all sounds great when you're sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, while you cruise through the Internet looking for a 5K race to run in.  It sounded even better when my friend Julie and stepdaughter Madie decided that they'd join me in the run - The more the merrier I foolishly thought; plus it was almost two months away and I thought I'd be a paragon of fitness by then.

Well the race was last weekend and to be honest it was a blast!  OK, to be honest there were points during the race when I would not describe things as a 'blast', more like 'near death experience', but now that it's all said and done, I would plan on doing another race ... but maybe only in a month or two from now! 

The race was run in the valley behind the Ontario Science Centre, which made it both scenic, as well as challenging, since we had to run down into the valley to run the paths - as Newton's (I believe it's the 3rd) Law states "for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction" - so for the run down at the beginning, it meant that we had to run up at the end.  Julie and I ran together, actually let me qualify that, we jogged slowly together; on the other hand, Madie, since she had not trained and had no idea how to pace herself, actually ran the course. 

There's a certain benefit to being as naive as Madie was during the race.  She simply ran as fast and as long as she could.  In the end, she place second, which is amazing and I hope that it kindles a love of running since she obviously has a talent.

On the other hand, Julie and I simply soldiered through the race, by using a combination of training, slow pace, determination and pride (neither one of us wanted to walk or come last).  Unfortunately we were both defeated by the hill at the end.  I tried conjuring up every running inspirational quote that I knew, but somehow trying to evoke The Little Engine That Could, just couldn't help me ... we both walked up the hill.  Julie started sprinting at the top of the hill, which of course inspired me to do the same!  We ran across the finish line with Julie about 10 feet in front of me (considering that she's 23 years younger than I am, that's pretty good for me, of course we won't discuss that she had recently gotten over an extremely badly sprained ankle, I have to take my small victories where I can).

As a goal, the race worked well.  I have to admit there were days where I might have skipped a workout or gone a little easier, but the spectre of the eventual race was always looming over me!

It wasn't easy, it wasn't pretty, but it was fun!

Weight Loss #12

I've spent a lot of time on the treadmill

I haven't done much blogging lately about my weight loss, mainly because there hasn't been any actual weight loss, though I'm still just a committed to the process as the day I started.

I have continued to modify my eating habits and more importantly have continued to commit myself to a fitness regime.  I just read back over my old blogs about working out and realise just how far I have come.  When I started on January I could barely walk for 30 mins on the treadmill - yesterday I ran for 30 mins at 5 mph!  I'm up to 60 sit ups on the incline bench, as well as 30 L sits on the captain's chair.

yest I actually do this!

My body is definitely firming up!  People have even started complimenting me on the changes that they can see (which always feels good). 

I know have to let go of my obsession with the scales, but it's really hard to do!  I know that my body is converting fat (which I have a whole lot of) into muscle (which I need a lot more of).  I know that muscle weighs more than fat.  I know I've been lifting weights, so I should be gaining muscle.  I know, I know and I know!  But I want the scale to move down too ... I know - just wait!  I know my clothes are fitting way better now and that that is a far better indication of the change in my body.

I'm two weeks away from running my 5K race and I'm confident that I'll be able to run the whole thing in hopefully a sub 30 minute time frame. 

I've also committed to competing in a triathlon in June!  That's a big deal for a woman who could barely walk in January!

So all and all, I'm golfing, running, working out, playing hockey and training for a triathlon.  I'm living the life I enjoy (though with a few more aches and pains).  I just have to believe that at some point the scales will pay attention too.